Prisoner
by ShandaTeals
Summary: After three years of verbal and physical abuse from Pete, will Frank ever rebound? And at what cost, on Gerard's part?
1. A New Job

He fiddled around with his tie before heading out on his first day of work. He gave one last attempt to call his younger brother to let him know he was ready to leave, but was surprised to see that his brother stood by the doorway, waiting for him.

"You ready to take on the world?" his brother joked, placing his glasses along the edge of his nose. His older brother gave a slight chuckle and found a glass to use for his reflection. Giving his short black hair another ruffle through, he placed the glass down and headed towards the door.

"The question actually is, 'is the world ready for _me_?" he replied, heading outside. His brother followed him outside into the warm summer air.

"I don't think the world _is_ ready for you, Gerard," his brother admitted, stepping on a leaf. "You're too fucking weird."

Gerard laughed and amiably shoved his younger brother. "Shut up, Mikes. You're just jealous of my skills."

"What skills?" Mikey asked, receiving another shove.

"The skills that will soon help paying the bills," Gerard replied seriously. Mikey nodded in understanding. He had told Gerard that he didn't have to worry about having to help pay the bills, but he wouldn't listen. He naturally felt, as the older brother, that it was his job to provide most of the money.

"Look, Gerard," Mikey said, stopping as they reached the bus stop. "I told you that I'm doing just fine on my own."

"And I've told you that I don't think I've done my part," Gerard replied, holding his brother's shoulders. "It's my fault we are where we are."

"Gerard—''

"No, Mikey," he interrupted as the bus arrived. He let go of his brother, but their eyes held together. "I'm going to do this. Think of it this way: if what you make is enough for rent, what I'll make will hopefully be enough to get us maybe our own TV in the room." That brought a smile to Mikey's face. A TV. He used to be glued to those things. It had been a while since then. He gave his brother a pat on the shoulder.

"Good luck," he called, smiling, and Gerard smiled back in return. He was going to have to try his hardest to make it up to his brother through all the hell he'd put him through. He put his fare inside the box of coins as he entered the bus and waved 'bye' to his brother as the bus sped away. Mikey stood at the corner until the bus was out of site before heading back to the complex.

"Mr. Way! We're so glad to see that you've arrived," a lady said to Gerard as he entered the building. The woman covered her receiver as she said this, but soon after, she continued chatting away with her cellular phone. She must have been the receptionist. After noticing Gerard was still standing there, she motioned to the chairs. "Have a seat."

Gerard did as he was told, sitting down on one of the luxurious black rolley-chairs. Boy, had he made it big. Mikey would be so proud of him…

"_Nothing I do is fucking good enough for you!_" was heard through the closed door, followed by obscenities screamed by an angrier and older male. Gerard's eyes widened in shock. Was this how they treated all of their employees?

"Don't worry ," the receptionist (Tina, her tag read) said nonchalantly. "It'll be over soon."

"Oh, I, uh, don't mind," he said, playing with his idle hands. "I mean, h-how bad could it be?"

The next second later, the door burst open and a guy about Mikey's age (if not, then younger) stormed out with his face red and fists pumped. It was only a quick glance, but Gerard could have sworn that he saw tears.

"Go out and _do_ something with your life! Maybe then I'd give a damn about something you have to say!" An older man with a strong Italian accent continued to yell. Gerard shot the receptionist a nervous glance.

"Is that how they treat all their employees?" he tried to joke, but the fear showed through. He couldn't screw this up. He really needed it.

"No, that's their son," she explained. "And by the looks of it, I think you should go in there now."

"Now?" Gerard asked. "Now? After he's just yelled at his son? D-Don't they need time to cool off or something?"

"Tina?" a woman from inside the room called. "Has our new worker arrived yet?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Tina responded, shutting off her phone immediately and shouting back, "I'll send him in." With a wave of her finger, she motioned for Gerard to go inside.

"We also like the fact that you have this…'child-ish' side to you," Frank's mother said. He could just imagine how scared the new worker guy must have been, this '' guy, after hearing his dad at his worst. He hadn't really caught a glimpse of the guy when he walked out, because his eyes were cloudy from the tears forming in his eyes. He had stormed out in such a hurry before his parents could notice.

He had forgotten that anyone was supposed to come today. It had totally slipped from his mind. But he was reminded this morning when he had tried to talk—actually tried to talk—to his parents about something important, and they had brushed him off, saying that they were expecting someone. Some sort of tutor, some sort of _mentor_ because they felt that he needed one. According to his parents, he never cried, laughed, nor smiled. He was just…there, being an apathetic eyesore.

Although he wouldn't have presented himself in that fashion if they didn't ignore him in the first place. In reality, all those characteristics were not true. He was only human after all. He laughed, he smiled and he cried. He giggled, grinned, and he _danced_ even, but all only in the comfort of his own privacy. Only in situations when he was alone. No need to tell or show people things only to have them ignore you or do nothing but mock you for it later. Learn to enjoy your own company.

"We think the ability you have to connect with kids your age is a strong characteristic for you," his mother continued, and Frank scoffed. Did she not know that the walls in this house were paper thin, and that he could practically hear every word she was saying?

"He needs guidance," his dad said bluntly.

"No, what I need are new parents," he muttered at his father's comment. He jumped on his bed and wiped his tears away. He knew he shouldn't be crying. He was seventeen about to turn eighteen in a month or two! But he had something really important to tell his parents today, and to see his suspicions be proven right hurt his a lot.

He had planned to tell them today that he wasn't 'straight.' He might have been bisexual or gay, but he sure as hell wasn't 'straight.' He was sure of it. He knew he was changing, and he just felt that it would be decent enough for his parents to have a head's up about what might have been happening in the next few years.

"So…you want me to baby-sit him?" the new guy asked. Frank could tell that this wasn't the job he was expecting. "Isn't he pretty old for a baby-sitter?"

"You see, we're hard working parents, businessmen-people-ish," his mother said. "Sometimes, we just don't have the time to sit down and talk to him to see what's going on in his life. We'd like you to do that for us."

Lies, what lies! Just today, they were free the whole morning. He had checked their schedules. But as soon as he had opened his mouth, they directed him down to the basement to clean the floors. Each time he finished one job and tried to talk, another one was handed down to him, but he still did them all. And once he finished it all and tried to speak, he was yelled at about not helping out the family and being worthless.

First of all, _what_ family? And second of all, what did they mean by 'worthless'? He got As in all of his classes. They just didn't want to be bothered by him. It was stupid of him to try to talk to them. He didn't fit in their schedule.

"Don't worry," Frank's dad assured the new man. "What you'll get paid will assure you and even make you forget that what you have is basically a baby-sitting job."

_How fucking sad_, Frank thought, letting another tear roll down his cheek. He did nothing to stop it. No one was here. There was no need to lie and hide from himself and from harsh reality. _You have money, so now you don't need to worry about your son, because he doesn't fit in your schedule._


	2. A New View on People in General

**A New View On People In General**

"So…do I start working now?" Gerard asked, taking another look at his prepaid check. He couldn't get attached now; he wasn't to be paid until the end of the next two weeks.

"Today," Mr. Iero agreed, and Mrs. Iero pointed upstairs.

"His bedroom's the second door on the right," she said. Gerard took a look upstairs and glanced back at the Ieros.

"Um, just one thing, Mr. Way—''

"You can call me Gerard," he offered, but his offer was declined.

"—there'll be no need for you to dress the way you are now," Mrs. Iero pointed out, and he gave an embarrassed chuckle. He had obviously thought he would get a better job than being a baby-sitter, but he bit his tongue. He couldn't decline the offer, just because he didn't want to waste his time. He owed it to Mikey to get up and do his part.

"Do you think I could go call my folks and let them know I got the job?" Gerard asked, taking out his phone. Mr. Iero nodded, retreating to the back of the room. Mrs. Iero smiled and led Gerard to the exit, closing the door after him. Tina, at the sound of the door, got up from her slouched position and began to pretend to do something.

"Don't worry, it's just me," Gerard joked, and she let out a sigh.

"So, how'd it go?" she asked, sitting up.

"Looks like we're associates now," Gerard smiled, continuing to head out the doorway towards Frank's room. If he had stayed long enough, he would have seen the smile form from Tina's lips. But, he was preoccupied dialing Mikey to tell him the good news. His fingers drummed along the wooden railing of the stairs that led upstairs as he waited for Mikey to pick up. Instead, the answering machine beat Mikey to Gerard.  
_  
"Um…either we're not here, or we're too lazy to pick up the phone,"_ Gerard's recorded voice laughed, and Mikey chuckled as well. _"So…yeah." Beep._

"Hey Mikes," Gerard started as his legs dragged up the stairs. "Well…I got the job…you won't believe what it is," he said, sighing. He neared the second door on the right, and he thought he had heard sniffling on the other side. "I'll, uh, tell you about it later, okay? Okay, bye," he quickly said, shutting off his cell. He cautiously and lightly tapped at the door.

"Who is it?" a muffled voice asked, and Gerard neared closer to the door.

"Um, it's the dude from downstairs," he replied, trying to sound as informal as possible, seeing that he and this boy were to bond in some way. Well, they didn't have to necessarily bond, but things would be easier that way. "You know," he went on. "The guy with the short messed up black hair that was sitting in the chair…"

There was a bit of ruffling inside, but a few moments later, the door opened to reveal the short boy Gerard had seen earlier, but now he was close up, and he had thought right. The boy was crying. He was sure of it now. His hazel eyes were still a bit watery, and there were traces of dried tears down his face. But this boy was good at hiding his emotions. "Come in," he said nonchalantly, opening the door wider and trudging along side his bed. He pulled out another black rolley-chair for Gerard to sit down in before plopping down on his bed. Gerard slowly followed him and sat in the chair (WOW! 2 in one day!) and the boy stared at him, unblinkingly. Gerard spoke up first.

"So, what's going on?" he asked, swaying around in the chair.

"Why are you in a tie?" the boy bluntly asked. "Didn't you know that you're a baby-sitter? A baby-sitter for a 17yr old while you're at it. One, you shouldn't be here. And two, even if you are, why are you in a tie?"

"Ah, no reason," Gerard lied. "Thought it would look cool," he joked, tugging at it disappointedly. A flash of sympathy crossed the boy's face, but he hid it before Gerard could see, staring out through the window.

"Well, uh, what's you're name?" Gerard asked, and the short boy gave a bitter laugh.

"Don't worry about my name," he said, shaking his head. "My parents don't even seem to know my name. Sometimes, it's just 'son, do this' or 'son, do that,' or 'son, do so-and-so. Get off your fat ass and do something with your life.'" He knew the last comment was a stab at what had just occurred, so Gerard decided to switch topics as he watched the boy resume staring out the window.

"So, you're seventeen, you say?" Gerard asked, still trying to start some conversation. He shrugged.

"I turn eighteen soon…in maybe a month," the kid said.

"Oh, really?" Gerard mischievously grinned. "Are you gonna throw a big party or go on a wild night out?"

"I, uh...never thought of it really..."

"Never thought about it? That was all I thought about!" Gerard said, laughing.

"So I take it, Mr. Way, that you're over eighteen?" the teen politely asked, formally speaking to him. He was using the name he heard his parents address him by, not knowing his real name.

"First thing: it's _Gerard_. Second thing, yeah...I'm about twenty-two." Gerard leaned back in his rolley-chair, smiling at the comfort of it. It was way better than the old mattress he had at home.

"You seem to be having a lot of fun on that," he noted, and Gerard grinned that contagious grin again. He liked that grin...It was cute to see it on his face.

"Yeah," Gerard explained, spinning around some more. "My brother and I practically live in a box, some cheap apartment room...so we barely have anything. But I knew I made it big when I sat in the rolley-chair downstairs," he joked, before randomly (and to Frank's surprise) adding, "You're smile is nice."

"What?"

"The smile on your face," Gerard said again, smiling back. "It's nice."

"Oh," he said, embarrassed at getting caught. What ever happened to hiding his feelings? "Thanks," he mumbled, looking away, trying to get rid of it.

"It's just that, the whole time I've been here, you've been really down," Gerard said, stopping the spin of the chair to face the teen. "But then you started smiling while I was being a spazz here in the chair..."

A small smile came to his lips again, but he stopped himself before he would betray his inner emotions and display proof of happiness and enjoyment. He knew that once he made that mistake, the happiness he wanted would be taken away from him, and he wouldn't be able to live without it. He wouldn't be able to live without the feeling of actually being cared about, which was something he had spent so much time trying to avoid. "Oh," he said, still looking outside his window.

"I mean, you could talk to me," Gerard continued. "I've got a younger brother, you know."

"How old is your brother?" he asked him.

"Um, about...two? Is it two years younger?" Gerard scrunched his nose as if he smelled something funny, bringing a subtle chuckle to the younger boy's throat. "I think he's two years younger..."

"And you guys live on your own?" he continued to ask, and Gerard nodded. Frank sighed, shaking his head. "What?" a confused Gerard asked.

"Look. How much are my parents paying you?"

"Excuse me?"

"When do you get your first paycheck?" he tried asking again, and Gerard looked at him incredulously.

"I want you to go home," the teen tried to explain, carefully choosing his words so that he wouldn't offend the older man who had just wasted his time listening to him speak about nothing. Nothing important, anyway...

"I'll find some way to convince my parents that you're doing your job so you can get your money," he said, speaking monotone. He had gone through this script many times before to previous sitters. Although none seemed to hold as much interest in him like Gerald...Gerard...? "You need it a lot more than I do, and we're just wasting each other's time."

"No way," Gerard said. "I don't want to get paid 'just because.' I want to work for my part."

"But I'm seventeen, don't you see? Don't you kind of feel that wasting your days here are a bit pointless, having to spend the end of your summer watching over a seventeen year old? Why not go home with the guarantee of getting paid there instead of wasting your time here?"

"I'm not wasting my time," Gerard said.

"You're basically having a monologue," he pointed out.

"It wouldn't be a monologue if you spoke, now would it? And if it's not a monologue, it's a dialogue. And if it's a dialogue, no time is being wasted because we're both talking, so no time is being wasted. Now, if you truly mean what you said about feeling bad for me wasting my time, even though I feel like I'm not, you'd start talking to me mister..."

"It's Frank," he finally said after a long debate with himself. Gerard triumphantly laid back in the rolley-chair. "Franklin Iero," he continued. "Or you could call me 'boy,' another variation of my parents...but I like Frank better."

"Frank it is," Gerard said, smiling again, and just like that, Frank found it hard to resist smiling along with him.


	3. Now There Were Two

**Now There Were Two**

"My job is to baby-sit a seventeen year old that turns eighteen in a couple weeks," Gerard explained to Mikey, taking a stab at the chow-mien Mikey had brought home two weeks ago. "I was so fucking embarrassed," Gerard continued. "I was in a fucking tie and everything, and then they go and tell me I'm just a fucking baby-sitter."

Mikey laughed at Gerard's situation. "I told you not to worry," he said in a sing-song voice. "If you don't want to, then don't. I've got it all under control."

"But with the money they _have_?" Gerard asked. "I need to keep this job." He took a bite of his food as his thoughts returned to the teen. "I only work five days a week, and I get to pick which days."

"That sounds fair, I guess," Mikey said, mulling it over. "But I've told you, if you don't want to baby-sit, then don't, especially when it's a fucking teenager. You hate baby-sitting _me_. How they hell are you gonna be all smiles for that kid? Actually, who _is _the looser that needs a sitter?"

"It's more of a mentor," Gerard said, coming to Frank's defense, even though he had just been attacking him a few moments before. "And his name's Frank."

"Him? A guy?" Mikey looked warily at Gerard. "Is that the reason why you're keeping the job?"

"What are you talking about?" Gerard asked, pushing the plate away. He was afraid if he ate anymore, it would finish, most importantly, and it was starting to taste funny.

"He's a _guy_, Gerard," Mikey said. "A young one, too. And you're his… 'mentor'…"

"Yeah, right, Mikes. The parents hired me to fuck their son," Gerard retorted. "I don't think so. I told you already, that the money they pay is huge. They live upstate…more near northern Jersey. Big houses and shit."

"I still don't see why he needs a baby-sitter," Mikey said, shrugging.

"Well, neither does he. You think he wants one?" Gerard asked. "He was trying to figure out ways to get rid of me. But he's a cool kid. His parents just have no time for him, and he's…he doesn't talk a lot. He seems kinda…anti-social, you know? And, who knows, maybe I'm gonna help him." Gerard put had a triumphant look on his face.

"Right," Mikey said sarcastically. "Help save him from himself." He broke into laughter, making Gerard laugh as well.

"Hey, at least it's something," Gerard countered.

"Well," Mikey said, getting up to throw the dishes away. "I'm going to bed so that I can wake up tomorrow and go to a real job."

"Fuck you," Gerard joked, getting up to throw his own away. He was hesitant at the black garbage bag, but in the end, he decided to throw it out. The food wasn't edible anymore, but Mikey didn't get his paycheck until last week, so no new money was coming in soon. And he had just started this new job…he was just going to have to make a detour on the way home tomorrow then…

* * *

Gerard made the five minute walk from the bus stop over to the Iero household the next morning with a light jacket on in the summer air that would be reaching the high seventies and low eighties later on today.

He racked his brain to see what activities he could come up with today that he and Frank could maybe do. Things like video games and looking at magazines…the stuff a regular seventeen year old would do. Remember, Frank's supposed problem was that he wasn't normal, so doing absolutely nothing and wasting summer away would do good enough. But he didn't necessarily think Frank was anti-social, or that he had something wrong with him. He was just really shy, but interesting and fun to hang around. When Gerard was around him (despite the teasing last night) he felt like he could actually do something, in this case, that was making Frank smile. When he did smile, it was pretty. It brought a smile on Gerard's lips, and remembering yesterday's events and the rolley-chairs made Gerard smile even more. If being a spazz was what made Frank smile, then so be it: he was going to have to start being more spazz-tic from now on.

Gerard made his way to the looming building, and for once he could see the many ways in which this place could have contributed to Frank's attitude. It seemed more of a prison than a home for any average kid. If he and Mikey had grown up here, they probably would have turned out messed up, too. A home was supposed to be a place where people could retreat to, and hide, or melt away in their own comfort. Here? It was barely homely at all. Everything in the house was so formal. Frank's living room was a waiting room, filled with business associates trying to bargain with one another. Frank's kitchen was more like a staff snack room, and the dining table was a conference table, papers occasionally scattered about.

This brought back memories of his old home with Mom and Dad and Mikey…his heartfelt and welcoming once-been home. But he quickly tried to erase those once-been memories. He was doing fine so far. There was no way remembering his simple life would help him now.

He rang the door to Frank's home and shoved his hands inside his pockets. It was a while, but finally, Tina opened the door with coffee in her hand, and Gerard's gaze instantly flickered over in that direction.

He hadn't had some in such a long time…

"Gerard?" Tina asked, yawning. "What the hell are you doing back here?"

"Hmm?" he asked, directing his gaze back to her as she took a sip.

"Here," she said, waving her hands around. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, to watch over the kid," he replied, letting himself in.

"At nine in the morning?" she asked, shutting the door and shuffling close behind as Gerard took off his shoes. She then snorted. "What, are you gonna take a shower with him or something?"

"I can see that you're a morning person," he muttered, taking his last shoe off. "Is it a crime to actually _want _to—a little bit—watch or hang out with some kid?"

"It is if you're a pedophile," Tina replied, her snorts becoming giggles. She swirled her coffee around, making circles with her spoon. She avoided his glare, staring into the cup. "A nice twenty-two year old eager to see, or should I say 'hang out' with, a young lost and confused teenage boy so early in the morning…who would've guessed?"

Gerard couldn't help but laugh along. "He's a really cool kid," he said in all seriousness, coming to Frank's defense. "And I don't think he's lost and confused. He's just ignored, maybe…"

"And you're the one who understands him," she interrupted, and Gerard shrugged. "I could kinda tell," she continued, "by the way you guys seemed to _bond_—''

"You must be really bored," Gerard grinned. "Is this waking you up?"

"Sorta," she admitted, heading back to her desk. Gerard could see that even though the door to the house was always open, that didn't necessarily mean that the people inside were. He made his way up the stairs, groggily himself, before Tina called out again.

"Yeah?" he asked as he stood right outside Frank's door.

"I was just wondering," she said, stepping back out.

"Hmm?"

"I want to know if you know his name…you know…"

"Of course I do," Gerard grinned. "Don't I have to? Isn't he the one I'm supposed to 'mentor'?" he joked. "I found it kind of funny that no one mentioned his name to me before I met him. He was shy about it himself, too."

"So he actually told you his name?" she asked. "He didn't give you the whole speech on 'wasting time'?"

"Oh, he did," Gerard continued to grin. "But I made him change his mind."

"Him _who _Gerard?" she asked, prying out the name from his mouth to make sure he was telling the truth. Gerard gave a light rap on the door as if to warn him the teen was coming in before he faced Tina again.

"Frank."

* * *

"Frank."

The sound of his name jolted Frank awake from another dreamless sleep. People (as usual) had been coming over to his house non-stop, doorbell after doorbell ringing, stranger after stranger entering the building.

There was a light rapping at his door and his heart rate slowed down when he realized that he _wasn't_ losing it, and that someone was actually calling his name. "Frank? Are you awake?"

Okay, so maybe he did know this person. He raised up halfway and rubbed his eyes. "Uh...who is it?" he rasped, shifting his position in bed.

"Um, it's Gerard," the voice from the other side said, and Frank froze. Gerard? Gerard from yesterday? Gerard, the new sitter? He had actually came back! Frank couldn't believe it. A smile rushed to his lips as he fell back on the bed, grinning to himself. It was okay to do that now, because he was alone in his room, surrounded by his own comfort, even if it was just a plain white wall with a corner desk and computer. He was glowing inside right now.

All of the other 'wannabe' sitters/mentors had gone after his "we're both wasting time" speech. It wasn't like he had really cared, though. It wasn't that hard to forget about them. They hadn't really cared about him. Actually, they themselves mocked the fact that he was a sixteen/seventeen year old that needed a sitter. Didn't they know that he was thinking the same thing? In fact, what he had wanted to truly say was that _they _were truly the losers for watching over him in the first place, but he didn't.

With Gerard, it was more of his nature (at least it seemed so) to care and try to make him happy and smile. In fact, Gerard wasn't the one who brought up the pathetic fact that he was actually baby-sitting an old teenager; Frank did. And even _then _Gerard shrugged it off.

The scary thing about Gerard, though, was that he made Frank smile, and Frank knew it wouldn't be soon before he would start smiling and grinning in his presence, letting him know that he could make him happy. That wasn't a safe thing to do, Frank had learned, ever since Pete. To let someone know that just seeing their face could bring you such happiness would come back and betray you. People that let their emotions get in the way usually got slapped in the face, because once that person knows, they can do almost anything to you.

Like Pete had been doing to Frank.

But he knew that if Gerard kept this up, he would soon start hanging out with Gerard on his own free will, and that would bring nothing but trouble. Trouble to him, and trouble to Pete. So, with the stupid grin still plastered on his sleepy face, he turned over, getting up and heading towards the closet for some clothes. About 99.99% of the time he had been ignored by his family in his lifetime. Maybe that 0.01% that he was actually cared for by his own parents was when he was a little baby, fresh from his mother's womb. Those first moments of intimacy were gone as soon as the umbilical cord had been cut by the nurse. The smile on Frank's face slowly disappeared as he put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Gerard couldn't see him happy like this, and neither could Pete. If either person knew, there would be hell to pay. But that couldn't mean he couldn't think whatever he wanted to in the privacy of his own room, his own mind.

"Can I come in? Or are you not ready?" Gerard asked from the other side, reminding Frank that he was right behind his door.

_But Gerard came back_, a voice rang in his mind. _That has to mean something_. He was trying as much as possible not to seem needy, but he didn't have any real friends besides Pete and he, as of now, was sure Pete was the only one that gave a damn about him. He couldn't be so sure about Gerard, because it could have well been the money that encouraged him to come back, whereas Pete was just...Pete. But he still couldn't manage to defy the smile that began to form on his lips again.

Frank quickly opened the door and plopped into bed again so fast that Gerard wasn't sure if the door had opened by itself or not, but he came in when the door opened, meeting a groggy eyed Frank sitting upright in his bed. Gerard smiled, stepping inside and immediately opening the blinds to Frank's room. Frank groaned at the sudden burst of light and collapsed back into bed.

"I'm sorry I'm so early," Gerard apologized, looking through the window. Frank grunted. "But since I'm here, you've got to wake up."

"Why?" Frank groaned, trying to bury himself in the sheets.

"Because I'm the sitter," Gerard joked. "I'm the 'boss,' and I say 'Get up!'." He noisily plopped down on Frank's chair, causing Frank to sit up again to look at the commotion that had occurred. Nothing life threatening. Just Gerard being a klutz, not being able to settle properly in a chair, a non-moving object. Gerard tried to get himself settled before continuing, "And I'm older."

"By four years," Frank snorted, his raspy voice getting better by the moment. Gerard chuckled.

"Who cares?" he asked, spinning around before coming to a complete stop. "I'm still older."

Pete and Frank had this type of conversation many times before, although it was never friendly. It usually ended with Pete and his 'stern' and 'disciplinary' actions, and with Frank regretting the thought that he could ever challenge Pete.

But hearing Gerard say it as genuinely as possible with no hidden threat behind the words made him smile. In normal circumstances, he would have stiffened t the comment. With the light atmosphere around the two of them, Frank muttered, "Loser," before continuing to stretch out on the bed before rising. Gerard looked back at him, chuckling.

"So that makes two of us," he said, before rapidly taking a spin on Frank's chair.


	4. Opening Up

**Opening Up  
**

"So you came back."

It was a statement, not a question. Frank swirled his chocolate around while Gerard took a sip of his coffee. He had unwillingly climbed out of bed while Gerard had headed back downstairs.

"Yeah," Gerard said, looking up. "Why?"

Frank avoided his gaze and stared into the conference room instead, shaking his head to say, 'It doesn't matter. Just a question.' But his mind wandered on to other things instead, like him and Gerard on the table, throwing the papers everywhere, kissing...He liked Gerard: that was what it was coming down to. He kept telling himself that it would lead to nowhere but trouble, but he couldn't help himself. He was nicer than Pete had ever been, sweeter, funnier, and better looking...hell, not just 'better looking.' He was downright sexy. All of a sudden, he was beginning to see flaws in what Pete had been telling him about not having a chance with anyone because he wasn't good enough. Well, he still kind of felt that way. But at least when he was with Gerard, he made him feel like he had a chance, and it felt amazing to Frank. If only he could be bolder...

At the sight of Frank's gaze towards the conference room, Gerard looked onward with him. "What's it like?" he asked, looking back at Frank. Frank looked up in confusion.

"What's _what _like?" he asked, startled as he looked back at Gerard. Had his facial expressions betrayed him?

"_This_," Gerard said, waving his arms around, motioning over to the room. "Having a snack room for a kitchen, and a conference room for a dinning room?"

"It's normal, I guess," Frank said, shrugging. "I mean, I know it's probably a little different, but it can't be by much..."

"What about strangers entering your home twenty-four seven?" Gerard asked.

"Oh, that doesn't matter," Frank chuckled, and muttered more to himself, "Either way, I'm not a priority in anything. I don't exist for either party. What's to notice?" A look of sympathy flashed in Gerard's eyes, and Frank quickly continued to cover up his previous statement. "I–I mean, isn't it like having a guest in your home?"

"Yeah, but it's people we _know_," Gerard emphasized, putting his empty cup down.

"Well, I don't know anybody," Frank said, hoping to end the conversation. He drank the last of his hot chocolate.

"No one?" Gerard asked, sitting down by the counter. "A friend, maybe?"

Frank sat down, a few feet away from Gerard and embarrassedly sitting on the chair. "It's just one guy..." his mind drifted to Pete before Gerard continued asking questions.

"Have you ever been over his house before?" Gerard asked, and Frank shrugged.

In reality, he had, but he didn't remember any of it. He had been at a party and then in the next minute, he was at Pete's house, in his bed and in his sheets, completely mind-robbed. He didn't remember anything. The next time he opened his eyes, they were greeted by the darkness of Pete's room. The only presence he had felt had been Pete's, and Pete had told him that they were having a sleep over that night but Frank was skeptical about it. He was feeling things in places that strongly suggested otherwise. A couple weeks later he confronted him, and Pete told him that he had drugged him, and when Frank had the audacity to get angry, Pete told him that he was lucky anyone would even sleep with him, let alone drug him to sleep with him. He should have been fucking honored. He should have been grateful, so he never brought it up again, because he figured that he was probably right.

"No," Frank whispered, completely avoiding Gerard now. He fixed his eyes on the floor.

"Are you _kidding _me?" Gerard asked, amazed. "You've never...?"

"No," Frank repeated. Those times he would wake up at Pete's didn't count. "Don't have any friends."

"Stop fucking lying," Gerard demanded in awe, and Frank let out a subtle smile at Gerard's carelessness.

"Tsk-tsk," he said, shaking his head. "Such a wonderful mentor," he joked.

"Well, t-this isn't normal," Gerard stuttered incredulously. "You're lying to me."

"I'm not normal," Frank replied simply. "And no, I'm not lying." His smile at Gerard's response grew, and he looked away again, chastising himself for it.

"So...how often do you do out?" Gerard asked, stretching in the chair.

"I...don't."

"Do they _cage _you in here?" Gerard gasped, and a chuckle escaped F5ank's mouth. It was a beautiful ringing sound in Gerard's ears, and it continued for a while, nurturing a smile on his face as well.

"Well, why go out?" Frank asked, and Gerard stood up, holding his light jacket.

"Let's say you could go anywhere you wanted, and you had something like all the money in the world, and you could essentially do whatever you wanted," Gerard said, oblivious to the fact that this was already the case before he stepped into the picture. "What would you want to do? Where would you want to go?"

Frank pondered over the question, chuckling again to himself about the situation Gerard was laying out before him. The smile faded, though, when he started giving serious thought to the question. Gerard seemed like a great guy; he really did. But he didn't really know if Gerard would actually care about what he wanted to do or say. What if this was all bluff? It was safer to stay Frank, and to be Frank meant to be ignored, and to be grateful enough to appreciate everything he was given, good or bad. Although, it was getting harder to be ignored by Gerard with Gerard looming over him with an arched eyebrow.

"You want the sad truth?" Frank asked, lifting his head up so his eyes could meet Gerard's. Gerard nodded, anticipating his answer and clutching his jacket.

"The _place _I want us to go is upstairs," Frank admitted, eyes locked and leveled with Gerard's. Gerard froze inside, nervous about Tina's earlier comments. If they came through, he would have to thank her for it later, but then again, he'd probably get fired...

"And what is it...you wanna do?" Gerard asked, gulping to himself. If he was given the chance, he'd have to fight it off, fight it off...

Frank shrugged, looking away again and shy of his answer and Gerard's response. "I just...I just wanna talk," he admitted. For the first time, Gerard was happy Frank had looked away, so now he wouldn't be able to see his slightly disappointed face. But, it was all for the better. He was stupid to have thought that Frank would have ever dreamt of such a thing. But he quickly got rid of any trace of disappointment as Frank's head lifted again, subtly looking up at Gerard.

"So what the hell are we waiting for?" Gerard asked, motioning for Frank to head upstairs into his room. Frank flashed Gerard a hyper-smile and grabbed his hand, not thinking too far ahead about what this could be read-out as. Any feeling of disappointment left Gerard's body with the thrill of Frank's hand tightly locked with his overcoming him. He instantly smiled back at a beaming Frank, who was predominantly coming out of his shy-shell. With his hand locked with Gerard's, he eagerly dragged the twenty-two-year-old into his room as an amused Tina stood at the bottom of the stairway after coming to observe what all the hype was about.

_So maybe I hadn't been that off this morning,_ she thought, walking back to her desk as Frank's door slammed shut. _What great news for Mr. and Mrs. Iero..._


	5. Frankie, Not Frank

**Frankie, Not Frank  
**

"So, do you plan on being in a business one day?" Gerard casually asked Frank while he sat in his rolley-chair. Frank sat on his bed, messing with the sheets as he vehemently shook his head.

"Anything _but_," he replied as Gerard spun around. Gerard stopped, chuckling at Frank's response.

"Kind figured," he admitted, grinning to himself.

"What about you, Gerard?" Frank asked before he could stop himself. He had never actually uttered Gerard's name aloud, and it felt alien in his mouth as he said it again.

"Gerard."

"Hm?" Gerard replied, looking up at Frank who was staring at him back. But Frank's mind wasn't there. All he could think about was how good it felt for him to say his name, like a wonderful verbal release. Confused looks appeared on Gerard's face as Frank continued to inadvertently play around with his name.

"Ger_ard_."

"_Ger_ard."

"_Gerard_—''

"I'm right here, Frank," Gerard said, interrupting him at his last 'Gerard.' He had gotten so into it, looking at him directly in the eyes, smiling and smirking himself. He had said Gerard's name in such an erotic way the last time, if he didn't realize, and Gerard was starting to react…

"Oh," said Frank, startled as he came back to the moment. He shook his head in embarrassment, and looked away as a light shade of pink began to cover his face. Had he been looking right at Gerard when he did that? He was such an idiot. He looked back at a red-faced flustered Gerard and feebly explained, "I-I like your name."

"I could kinda tell," Gerard grinned, shifting his position so Frank wouldn't see anything. Frank turned away, too, misinterpreting the purpose of Gerard's shuffle.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, mentally kicking himself for being at ease.

"What are you sorry for?" Gerard laughed. "I did tell you that I thought your smile was nice, didn't I? And you said liked my name. We're even."

_We're even_, rang in Frank's head. Yeah, he guessed that was okay. He wasn't here to throw Frank compliments, and neither was Frank. Gerard was just here to watch him. "So what about you?" Frank asked, his volume lowering with each word.

Gerard immediately realized that he had hurt Frank by saying that they were 'even.' It made it seem like…almost like he didn't like the fact that they were doing _this_, something that he wasn't getting paid for. It made it seem like he wasn't comfortable with what was going on.

It made it seem like he didn't like Frank.

"What _about _me?" Gerard asked, looking at Frank fumble around with the sheets. "We were still on you."

"Oh." Frank stopped the fumbling and looked at Gerard, or the chair, rather. "What more is there you could possibly want to know?"

"Your favorite food, your favorite color, favorite song…the list could go on," Gerard immediately said as he smiled, sitting up and facing Frank directly. Maybe if he sat this way, he could still look at Frank and not be as noticeable…

"I am Frank. I have no favorite food, color, song…the list could go on," Frank replied. Gerard scooted his chair closer to Frank's bed, and sadly looked down at Frank, who was being too timid to look back up.

"You're a likeably guy, Frank," Gerard said, keeping the chair still by holding on to the bed, and eventually, Frank. The physical contact left Frank with no choice but to look up at Gerard, sinking into the depths of his eyes. The longer he held the gaze, the harder it was for him to pull away. Ignoring him, Frank realized, was going to be a lo harder than he thought. Gerard continued with his statement. "I really think you're pretty cool, Frank, but there's this wall you keep putting up, this shield you have. I'm not like you're parents. You can let me in."

"I don't let anyone in," Frank mumbled, still trying to look away, but he couldn't. The pleading look of Gerard's eyes held him there.

"I don't get why you have that mentality," Gerard said, pulling away from Frank, and Frank looked away also. "I don't know if you notice, but there are times that I feel you've let you're guard down, and I see Frankie."

"Frankie?" Frank asked, his eyes returning to Gerard's once again. Now, he was confused. No one had called him 'Frankie.' There was Frank, but not 'Frankie.'

"Frank is the one who's ignored everyday by everybody. Frank is the one who wants to disappear sometimes, or fade away somewhere," Gerard explained, watching Frank's expression. "_Frankie _is the seventeen year old boy that surfaces every once in a while, before Frank covers him up. I _like _Frankie. _Frankie's_ the one I want to baby-sit, Frank."

There was so much truth in Gerard's statement and in his eyes that it hurt to look for some sort of comfort in either direction. Frank was now starting to erase doubts he had about Gerard only being here for the money. His original gut feeling was true. Gerard seemed to care for Frank, and not just the paycheck. He honestly just seemed to want Frank to be happy, not ignored. This had gone further than Pete ever had, calling him _Frankie _and making him seem cuter than he really was. Who cared if it was a lie? It made him feel a whole lot better.

And who cared about Pete right now? Here, in front of him, was another human being that noticed and wanted Frank's existence, in a much sweeter and purer way than Pete did. It was true that it didn't take money for Pete to notice him, but it was what Pete got from Frank that made him 'memorable' or worth keeping contact with.

Gerard, on the other hand, was being paid for being with Frank, but he wasn't getting paid to dig deep inside, fid Frankie, and bring him out. He was just supposed to watch Frank, make him speak a couple sentences or two a day, and then go home. But Gerard added and invested way more time and effort into it, like trying to make him smile, or figure out what he wanted to do, what he liked…something told him that regardless where they might've met, Gerard would have probably found some way to reach out to him.

The brush of Gerard's hand on Frank's shoulder brought him back to the present, a foot away form Gerard. He blinked a couple times and looked up to see Gerard's worried eyes. "You look so confused, Frank." To Gerard's surprise, Frank grinned and, in turn, made Gerard grin as well when he shyly but strongly said, "It's _Frankie_, Gerard. Not Frank."


	6. Beautiful Stranger

**Beautiful Stranger  
**

_Today was such a good day_, Gerard thought as he smiled to himself. He felt like 'Frankie' had a fighting chance now. The two boys spoke about school and how they were wasting away their summers before they had agreed to exchange phone numbers. But Frank's face was full of disappointment when Gerard announced that he had to leave early today. In fact, he wasn't leaving 'early.' He was leaving on time, actually. But compared to other days, he was leaving early.

"But I'll come back again tomorrow, okay Frankie?" he assured him, as Frank tried to cover up.

"Yeah, sure...that sounds cool," Frank said, shoving his hands in his pockets as he led Gerard downstairs. They walked down the stairs with a comfortable silence, Gerard peeping glances at Frank and Frank doing the same.

They eventually reached the door, and Tina came out to see what was going on. "Leaving so early, Gerard?" she asked, staring between the two of them. Frank avoided her gaze, an uneasiness overcoming him. Frank didn't seem like her, but she seemed fine to Gerard.

"Yeah," Gerard said sadly, ruffling his hands through Frank's head and making him grin. A confused look crossed Tina's face, but she quickly hid it, with a smirk covering her face instead.

"I told him why already," Gerard said, still looking at Frank. Frank nodded, still staring at Gerard and refusing to stare at Tina.

"Your brother, right?" he asked, and Gerard nodded, sighing at the situation. His eyes flickered over to Tina for a second, seeing her smirk.

"What?" she asked Gerard. "I didn't say anything." She took another look at the two of them before slowly heading back to her desk.

"I'm sorry," Gerard apologized to Frank again. "How about next time, we'll...I dunno...go somewhere?"

"No need," Frank said, smiling. "I know you have a life."

"Well...okay," Gerard said. Man, this was getting awkward. Yesterday had been much easier. He had just walked off, and all was fine. But today, he was shy as hell. "Um..."

"Well," Frank said, shy himself. "Uh, why don't I walk you to your car?"

"Car?" Gerard repeated at Frank's blunt offer. "Sure," he continued. "B-But I don't have a car," he admitted. "I take the bus..."

"Then I want to walk with you to the bus," Frank said, putting on his sneakers and going outside. "No problem."

"Um, okay," Gerard said, shutting the door behind him. "Awfully bold today, are we?" he joked, and Frank smiled.

"It's because I'm being _Frankie_, like you wanted me to," Frank said, kicking a leaf that was on his stair.

"But do _you _want to be Frankie?" Gerard asked, and Frank nodded.

"If I wasn't Frankie, I wouldn't be talk to you now," he admitted. "Life would be very boring, Gerard."

"Aw, how sweet," Gerard cooed, and Frank amiably shoved him over a bit. "A little stronger than I thought," Gerard noted, chuckling and rubbing his side. Frank smiled at him and continued walking over to the bus stop, which was a block or two away.

"So, is it your brother's birthday or something?" Frank asked when they were about halfway, looking at Gerard.

"No, not really," he admitted, scratching his head. "It's more of a 'thank you'...I guess you could say that."

"Oh, I know those," Frank said sadly. "My parents used to do that."

"They sent you out to dinners?" Gerard asked, surprised.

"No, of course not," Frank chuckled. "They would go out and buy me the next coolest thing that was in the market. The new toy robot that was out, the latest fashion things, the next big CD out there by the new artists...none of the stuff I really liked. And then they started giving me money."

"Wow," Gerard said, amazed. "Where's all that stuff now?"

"Some of it I gave away," Frank said, avoiding his gaze. "And some stuff I kept, like the money. I donated some for the school charities and stuff, but I figured I should save some for later, for when I was going to leave."

"Leave?" Gerard asked. "What do you mean by 'leave'?" He looked down at Frank, who was now suddenly interested in a nearby blade of grass.

"Frankie," Gerard said, sitting down next to him. He knew he was trying to avoid him, but it wasn't going to work. He had said that so sadly. "What do you mean by 'leave'?"

He gave an uncomfortable sigh and looked at Gerard. "Well," he started, "I wasn't going to leave anymore, because now you're here, so...let's just...forget about it, okay?" he tried, standing up again. Gerard up with him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, not wanting to pick at a wound. Frank nodded, continuing to head down to the bus stop. Gerard followed him silently.

"I'm sorry," he said, after a while. "I...I want to tell you, but I'm afraid of what you're gonna think," he admitted, and Gerard shook his head. Frank defiantly held his ground. "I _will _tell you, Gerard," he said, his eyes watering. "Just...not now, okay? I don't want it to still be a problem of mine when I tell you. I want to be able to tell you when the problem is long gone and dead, so I can be happy."

"Okay," Gerard agreed, nodding. At first, he was gonna push and prod Frank for an answer, but he realized that it had to have been pretty serious, maybe something as serious as his parents splitting up for him to want to tell him _still_, but later. Frank hugged him good-bye. Gerard's heart was skipping beats with the feeling of Frank's body pushed up against him. He hugged back, and Frank eventually pulled away.

"The bus," he said, quickly wiping his eyes, and Gerard looked back and realized that the bus was here. Damn it.

He headed on the bus after placing a quick kiss on Frank's cheek. Frank smiled, standing at the bus stop until the bus faded into a mere dot on the road.  


* * *

He was unbelievably happy. He was getting to Frankie, or better yet, Frankie was getting to _him_.

God, he was such a cute kid. It made Gerard wish he was a year or two younger. Maybe then he'd have a chance. He saw how Frank was starting to regard him more of a friend, now, than a mentor. If only he had been Mikey's age, they could maybe be more than friends...

He exited the bus and stepping into the alien neighborhood. The clouds loomed overhead, and a sharp cool breeze slapped Gerard in the face. He noticed that he had left his jacket at Frank's place. No problem...he'd just pick it up when he went there again the next morning. Besides, that would have ruined the perfectly awkward time Frank and he had saying good-bye. He remembered kissing his cheek and Frank absentmindedly smiling at the bus as it drove off...

Gerard slapped his forehead as he realized the big detail he had skimmed over. He was busy worrying about Frank and if he would ever like him, when the answer was the image replaying in his head for the past twenty minutes.

Frank was _smiling _after that kiss. Forget the fact of being too old! What about the mere fact that Frank maybe wasn't _gay_? Didn't he have to consider that first? Though he never knew the answer to that question (being that neither of them brought it up), he did _now_, based on that innocent little kiss. Of course, Gerard was jumping to conclusions, but it made him happy and less worried about the fact that maybe he was the only one who felt something.

Gerard walked down the block, heading into DeGraw Avenue, the ominous clouds making Gerard anticipate a light summer drizzle. But he didn't care if it rained on him. Maybe Frank liked him more than he thought. Boy, he hoped so.

He replayed the familiar scene of him quickly kissing Frank on the cheek without a second thought as he opened his cell phone. Browsing through his phone, he looked and found Frank's number, under 'Frankie.' The smile on Gerard's face broadened as he went to his text-message inbox to see he had received a message. He opened it, hoping to see Frank had sent him something, but to his disappointment and cruel reality check, it was not.

_Where the hell are you?_ was typed about five minutes ago. _I thought you wanted your money...  
_  
Shit. The reason why he had come and left Frank so early. _Him_.

Gerard quickly made his way to the house, being sure not to be any more tardy than he already was. It would be really bad if he did all this, only to have his pay shortened and not enough money to pay for Mikey's dinner.

After arriving at the doorsteps of 56 DeGraw Avenue, he shakily texted, _I'm here_. His breath caught in his throat for the dreaded, yet needed, reply.  
_  
_ _Then come on in, baby_. he read...


	7. Save Me From Myself

**Save Me From Myself  
**

For someone who was so unbelievably happy previously, he felt so miserable, dirty, and impure now. There was a certain dull ache on specific body parts on Gerard as he limped over to the front door of Mikey's apartment room. He had done this for Mikey, for _Mikey_. He thought—no, he _knew_— that Mikey would enjoy some new fresh food. He was sending him to his favorite restaurant. Of course, Mikey would deny wanting anything: that was just Mikey for you. But this was Gerard's gift for Mikey, for standing up for him when no one else would and getting stuck in this situation.

Gerard quickly got into a cold shower before Mikey returned home from work, trying to rid himself of any evidence of what had been done to him. Haunting images and scenes replayed in his head, giving him the total opposite feeling of what the scenes earlier had, as the money had he received was placed on the bathroom sink. Two hundred dollars. He had just let himself be used for two hundred dollars. Was he that cheap?

It didn't matter anymore. According to his parents, he already was. Being homosexual was itself a sin, and he was nothing but cheap and dirty.

Boy, did he feel like it now.

A slam of the front door startled Gerard as he heard Mikey's—he presumed—footsteps shuffle down the hall to the bathroom. He was hoping to finish before Mikey got home, but that was okay. He could still manage.

"Gerard?" Mikey called through the door. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Gerard called back, and Mikey chuckled.

"While you 'pretty' yourself up, I'll go warm up the food..."

"There's no food," Gerard said, and Mikey kept laughing. "I threw it out," he continued. Mikey kept laughing.

"I know you did, you douche-bag," he said, still laughing. "That's why I went and bought more."

"Y-You what?" Gerard's face fell, and he started getting sick in his stomach.

"I went out and got some food," Mikey said again. "Hurry up and get out."

"Oh...okay," Gerard replied dejectedly. "I...I'll be right out..." He felt like such an idiot. Maybe he was cheap. He had handed his body over so freely without thinking about other possibilities, heading back towards his past...

Mikey could never find out about it. It would kill him to know that what their parents had said about Gerard was becoming true. It would mean that he left his comfortable life for a lie, defending his brother when all his parents were doing was telling the truth. He couldn't do that to Mikey.

And he sure as hell couldn't let Frank know. What would he think of him now? Frank's words repeated in his head.

_"I...I want to tell you, but I'm afraid of what you're gonna think."_

That was _exactly _how he felt right now. He just hoped that poor Frank wasn't going through something as horrible as this.  


* * *

"So...how is he?" Tina casually asked Frank as she handed him his TV dinner in his room.

"Who?" Frank cautiously asked back. He wasn't sure if she could read right through him to see that he liked Gerard, or if she was talking about her demented boyfriend, Pete.

"Gerard," she said. "Who else?" She took an innocent look around his room.

"He's cool," Frank said, poking his dinner. She really shouldn't have been busy wondering about him and Gerard, but about her own relationship with Pete.

"Is that so?" she asked, facing him again. With a wave of determination to end it all soon, he gave a noticeable sigh.

"You should spend more time worrying about Pete," Frank told her, but she ignored him, looking through his garbage.

"Alright," he said. "What is it that you want?"

"I don't want anything," she said, looking at him again. "It's what Mr. and Mrs. Iero want. It's what Pete wants."

"P-Pete?" Frank stuttered. Why was she bringing him up in this? And what was it that she was talking about?

"Yeah," she went on, walking over to Frank's bed. "I know all about you two. He says you two are becoming really good friends..."

"But what do you mean by 'what Pete wants'?" Frank asked fearfully. She sounded like she knew more than what she was letting out. She looked at him with such pity, and Frank's look at her soon turned disdainful. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he asked again, a bit angrier this time.

"It means that I have info that would make Pete _very _unhappy," she hissed at him threateningly. "But, I'm sure Pete will let you know himself..."

Her words stabbed Frank in the gut of his stomach. "You knew," he whispered, his hands now growing cold. No wonder Pete was able to come in all those nights, undetected. No reason for him to come up with some sort of fib of why he visited her so much, or about why he was getting really 'close' with the kid she was supposed to some-what watch over.

A cold smirk reached her face. "I don't think your parents would like the fact that they are essentially paying a guy to get close enough to their son so that he can have a good fuck—at least I've been told so—and I don't think Pete would appreciate the fact that you were so eager to bring another guy into your room."

"We didn't do anything," Frank said, rising from his bed.

"Sit the hell down," she snapped. "Getting awfully bold, are we?" Gerard's words came from her mouth and Frank froze. This was what he got for opening up to Gerard, wasn't it? "Pete's coming over in a few," she continued, relishing the surprise on Frank's face. "I wonder how bold you'll be _then_."

No. He didn't want to listen to Pete right now. Before, maybe he might have, but he had found someone better, and way more deserving. He didn't want to hear Pete's bitter and twisted lies that he had somehow engraved into Frank's head so that he would belong to Pete and only Pete. One, they weren't true. And sadly, two, he knew that if he had heard them there was a possibility he'd end up listening to him again.

Tina must've been more heartless than he could have ever imagined. He had never liked her much. Maybe it was because he felt extremely low that she had no idea it was because of him that he made such frequent visits, or the fact that it was her boyfriend that did things to him and she did nothing about it. In fact, she was _encouraging _it.

Frank dejectedly sat back on his bed as the doorbell sounded, and a smile crept to Tina's lips.  


* * *

Frank couldn't sleep that night. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the events played themselves over and over in his head. Today was the worst and humiliating of all. Tina stood there and watched everything, laughing and giggling at it all. Pete's cold, quick, and cruel touch on Frank, his tongue tainting Frank in places he wished he could make numb, the dull ache that throbbed in his mid-section, both front and back...

How could this have happened? How could he have thought of this as being cared for, being of importance, being loved? The only thing that was happening was that he was being used and abused. He definitely knew he couldn't tell Gerard about this now. Though he was hoping to tell him sooner, it was evident that this problem was still alive and well.

He got out of bed and realized that he was still naked from the incident, a nice reminder of what had really happened. Putting on a t-shirt and some sweatpants, he crept out of his room and went to the bathroom to inspect the places that stung on his body.

He passed a couple of businessmen on his way there, and one of them gave him a wink, smiling. Frank realized that his face was probably still red and flustered, and his sleepy composition was probably sending across the wrong message.

"Did you get lucky, little man?" the business associate asked, and Frank ignored him, heading for the bathroom. He opened the door and saw that his hands were scratched. He wouldn't have been surprised if there were scratches on his face as well. But he knew Pete was smart enough not to do that.

He had guessed wrong. He looked in the mirror and saw scratches and bite marks on his face. Why had he been so bold? This new wave of confidence he was demonstrating scared Frank. Was there some sort of reason behind it? He looked down to see that Pete had also scratched him along side his chest, and his hickies were present everywhere.

Frank took a damp cloth and began to immediately scrub himself off, trying to get rid any evidence of Pete's brutal attack, but it wasn't helping him much. Tears fell down his cheeks again. How pathetic would he be if Gerard had been here?

A sob escaped his throat and he quickly left the bathroom and ran into the comfort of his room. He threw many objects around, blinded by anger and hurt. He hated being Frank, not being able to stand up for himself or get his message across. Nothing good came out of it. He needed to talk to someone before he did something rash, in the midst of his overwhelming emotions. He sounded like a fucking girl, he knew that already. But he couldn't help but think about 'leaving' again...

_No, _he thought. He couldn't do that to Gerard. He _wouldn't_ do that to him. He promised to tell Gerard everything, but how could he if he had 'left'?

He weakly pulled his pants from the large group of clothing in the corner and his cell phone dropped from the pocket, opening as it hit the floor.

He knew what he was going to do.

He knew who he was going to call.


	8. Why Do All Good Things

**Why Do All Good Things...  
**

Gerard shifted his position in 'bed,' careful not to make enough noise to wake up Mikey. He couldn't go back to sleep. He had drifted off to sleep a little earlier, but had woken up after his dream had taken a turn for the worst; it had been a mixed dream, a dream with many emotions. Frank was in it, and so was _he_, the guy Gerard had let take advantage of his body for two hundred fucking dollars.

Fuck it. He just wasn't going to sleep tonight. He didn't want to close his eyes. His mind was swimming around, visiting back to Frank's smile, and earlier to the time of his most discomfort—his prostitution.

He felt low for what he had done, but he decided it was worth it. He was going to need this money again sometime. At least now, he had gotten it done and over with. But he couldn't tell Frank or Mikey and risk losing their trust.

His phone rang, startling him and Mikey. He quickly tried to receive it, but Mikey awoke, groaning, "Shut the damn thing off."

Gerard fumbled for it, wondering just who it was that would call him this early in the morning. His heart skipped a beat when caller-ID confirmed it was Frank. He quickly answered it, now grinning ear to ear. "Hello?"

"Gerard?" Frank asked timidly from the other end.

"Is this Frankie?" Gerard asked giddily, giggling despite the late time. He earned another groan from Mikey.

"Yeah," he admitted on the other end. "Are…are you busy?"

"Not at the moment," Gerard said, smiling at the ceiling. "You _do _know it's about 1:23AM, right?"

"Well, being that I've never had a real friend before, I thought you could just call them up and stuff," Frank said, making light of the pitiful situation, and Gerard chuckled. He really had no clue about this stuff, and it was cute.

"You were telling the truth, weren't you?" Gerard joked, cooing at him.

"I told you that already," Frank said, laughing along at his own naïve-ness. It wasn't long before the laughter died and Frank spoke again, to keep it from being quiet. "So…what were you doing before I called?" he asked, trying to start a normal conversation.

"Um…trying to sleep, actually," Gerard admitted to him, and Frank started to apologize. Gerard cut him off, giggling again like a little kid. "No, it's okay. I couldn't go back to sleep, really."

"Neither could I," Frank said, smiling. "That's…that's why I called."

"Well…what if I was sleeping?" Gerard asked, and Mikey grunted a 'You should be.' Ignoring him, Gerard continued quite playfully, "You would've interrupted my beauty sleep!"

"You don't need beauty sleep," Frank truthfully said out loud. Catching himself, he added, "Leave that for the rest of us to do."

"I think you might be blind," Gerard joked, glowing from Frank's compliment. "I'm a monster right now."

"Well, I'm not any different," Frank said, and the two of them chuckled along with one another. It wasn't long before Mikey threw a pillow at Gerard, knocking the phone from Gerard's hand.

"I'm trying to fucking sleep! Get a clue and go somewhere else!" Mikey snapped, before irately taking his pillow back. Gerard angrily sighed as he picked the phone from the floor and left the room before he checked to see if Frank was still on.

"Frankie?" he asked, looking at his cell phone. "You still on?"

"Yeah," Frank giggled, instantly bringing a smile to Gerard's lips. "Tell your brother I'm sorry," he said after his laughter died down.

"Hell no," Gerard said, walking over to another part of the hallway. "He's just being a douche bag." This made Frank giggle even more, finding its contagious way back to Gerard. But after the giggling stopped, there was an awkward silence on the line.

"So, uh…how was everything after I left?" Gerard asked, hoping to hear Frank shine with some good news.

"Um…n-not too different…the usual, I guess," he heard Frank unhappily mumble.

"Why?" Gerard asked, concerned. "What happened?"

"Don't…don't worry about it," Frank assured him. "Nothing different. The usual, blah, blah, blah. I'm still alive, right?" He added in a dry chuckle to try and hide his uneasiness, and it seemed to him like he had Gerard convinced.

"Don't be so down," Gerard said, trying to cheer him up somehow. "Was it your parents?"

"Don't bother yourself, Gerard," Frank said lightly. "It's just…some things are meant to be, or meant to happen. Sometimes, there's no reason for it, but what can you do?" His last sentence sounded so tormented, like he was about to give everything all up, and it struck Gerard.

"There's a reason for everything," Gerard said. "Maybe once you find that reason and destroy it, it won't happen anymore."

"Maybe," Frank repeated sadly. "But like I said, forget about me. What about you? That…that nice dinner you two had. Did it go well at all?"

The dinner…oops.

"Uh, the dinner was…alright," Gerard said, putting his hand through his hair.

"How'd it go?" Frank asked eagerly.

"Um, it was…alright," Gerard repeated, unsure what to say. Frank giggled at his awkwardness.

"Did he like it?" Frank asked, trying to get a different answer from him. Gerard shrugged.

"It's food. What's not to like?" he joked, and Frank chuckled.

"You've got a point," he admitted, and he sighed. He didn't want to prod Gerard. He seemed pretty evasive about the topic. But maybe he could move on to another one, like…

"You kissed me today."

Frank held his breath, waiting for Gerard's response. He hadn't imagined it, had he? Gerard had kissed him at the stop, and Frank had smiled (like an idiot). He remembered it all.

There was a long pause on the end of the line, Gerard debating about whether or not to admit it. Was it some sort of trap question? If he answered, 'Yes,' then the next question would be 'Are you gay?' What if he admitted that he was? Would Frank be disgusted? He knew that not too long after the kiss, he had convinced himself that Frank was indeed gay, but that was a far stretch. Maybe the only reason he had smiled like that was because he had thought of it only as a friendly gesture. Maybe he would keep his distance from him if Gerard admitted it.

And if he said 'No,' would that disappoint him? What if Frank was gay? Him saying 'No' would be like rejecting Frank, lying to him, and worse, lying to himself. Gerard gave an audible sigh. He didn't know what to do. He thought he knew Frank, but it was apparent he didn't know him enough.

Frank was quietly fidgeting on the other end, hating himself for bringing up the event. He should've let things be. What if Gerard now thought of him as obsessive? It sounded like Gerard was having a hard time remembering what the hell he was talking about. Then, he heard Gerard's sigh. What if Gerard _had _kissed him, and he was now annoyed at how much Frank had read into it, stating the fact with a little bit of hope near the end of his sentence.

"You mean _yesterday_," Gerard finally said.

"W-what?" Frank timidly asked.

"Yesterday," Gerard repeated, chuckling a little. He didn't like the heavy atmosphere around them. "It's almost 2:00 AM."

"Oh, right," Frank said, nodding (Of course, Gerard couldn't see this).

There was more silence on the phone line, and Frank became annoyed at himself for ruining such a fun phone call. Just as he was about to apologize and say 'bye,' Gerard said something. "I did kiss you yesterday, Frankie," he admitted. "I'm sorry if it bothered you. It was kinda…weird."

"Oh." That was all he could say. Gerard wasn't gay. His last statement proved it. He had said it was…weird.

"Why? What's wrong?" Gerard asked again for the second time that night. Frank had sounded like he was rejected, which could only mean one thing to Gerard. "I mean…it didn't feel weird to you?"

Frank shrugged, and after a short debate with himself, he decided 'To hell with it.' Besides, it was Gerard. No matter what, he was sure Gerard wouldn't make fun of him. At least, he thought so…

"It didn't feel weird to me," Frank said. He took a breath before he continued, letting out what he was trying to hide from him for so long. "Of course, it wouldn't feel weird to me because…I'm gay, Gerard."

There was another silence, and Frank decided again 'To hell with it,' because if being gay scared Gerard off now, then there was no point trying to keep anything in. "So, no, it didn't feel weird," he continued, admitting, "It felt quite nice, actually—''

"That's good," Gerard intervened, astonishing Frank. He had expected something else to follow, like, "Cuz that's the last time you're seeing me again," but there was just silence.

"Good?" Frank asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Gerard chuckled, and added worriedly, "Unless you were joking…?"

"No," Frank assured him.

"Then…yeah, that's good," he repeated again. "Cuz…"

"It's the last time I'm seeing you, isn't it?" Frank dejectedly asked, anticipating what he thought was about to unfold.

"No! If anything, you'll be seeing more of me now, cuz—''

"You're gonna beat me up for being a faggot?" Frank apprehensively interrupted. "Is that why my parents hired you?"

"No!" Gerard said again, surprised at the ideas that came to Frank's head. "I would never!"

"So are you gonna—''

"Frank! Shut up!" Gerard yelled, laughing loudly in the hallway. "If you would let me finish—''

"It's over, isn't it?" Frank continued, trying to prepare himself for the worst. "I'm sorry—''

"I'm GAY!" Gerard loudly shouted, trying to beat the volume of Frank's incoherent babble. He had failed to notice the he had, inadvertently, just yelled that he was 'GAY!' down the hall.

"Shut the fuck up!" Mikey hollered through the closed door, and several tenants yelled similar things, but with much more vulgar words.

"W-what?" Frank asked, oblivious to the commotion Gerard had just caused. He was not at all prepared for some possible good news. His heart started beating rapidly at the thought of Gerard's kiss actually meaning something.

Gerard waited until the commotion he had created settled down before whispering into the phone, "I'm gay, Frankie."

"O-Oh," Frank stuttered, a smile reaching his lips. So he _hadn't_ heard incorrectly. Already having a feel what the reason was, he asked "So…the reason why you said it was a good thing was…?"

"Because I want to be able to kiss you like that more often," Gerard flirtatiously said into the phone, smiling. There. It felt good to get that off his chest. It was true that he hadn't told him about his other thoughts, but those would all come in time. He felt like he had lifted about 70lbs of weight off of him. Now for the other 30lbs…

"That's…good," Frank said, at a loss for words. He hadn't been in this situation before. He hadn't had someone have a crush on _him, _of all people. It was nice. It made him feel all bubbly inside. He was giggling like a little teenage girl, now, and Gerard laughed, too.

"Well, are you coming today, Gerard?" Frank bashfully, after the laughing had died down. He was nervous that the longer he happily basked in the happiness of yesterday, the sooner it would somehow be taken away.

"Of course!" Gerard asked, surprised at his question. "Didn't you just hear what I said? Why _wouldn't_ I?"

"Well, today's Saturday," Frank explained. "Usually, the two days people pick to be 'off' are the weekends."

"Well, you should know that I'm not normal," Gerard said, speaking in a regular volume again. "And why the hell do I need my weekend anyway? I do nothing at home."

"You do know that you need to take those two days off before the end of this week," Frank warned him. "They don't pay extra," he sadly added.

"I don't need to be paid," Gerard said, and to make sure Frank understood him, he sarcastically added, "Wow. Two days of my life are gonna be wasted because I'm not getting paid to hangout with Frank Iero, the coolest guy on earth. Oh, the pain!" Frank burst out into giggles as Gerard grinned, hoping he got his message across.

"So, I'll see you today?" Frank asked.

"Bet on it," Gerard playfully warned him, and Frank chuckled again.

Frank paused for a while before boldly toying with Gerard, adding, "I'm gonna be waiting for my kiss, Gerard."

"You'll get it," Gerard promised bashfully, beginning to fumble with a lock of his hair. He was getting extremely shy now. He was blushing. How cute.

"Well…bye," Frank timidly said, quickly shutting off his phone before he said anything else that was flirtatiously bold (in his case).

"Bye, Frankie," Gerard said to the dead line, smiling to himself. This was great. This was _amazing. Today wasn't such a bad day after all_, he thought, heading back into the apartment with a lazy smile plastered on his face. He got into bed, where Mikey laid awake, tiredly staring up at the ceiling.

"Do I have your permission to sleep _now_?" he asked, irritated. Gerard numbly nodded, happily snuggling into bed.

"I thought Frank was that teenager that you were watching," Mikey grumbled, and Gerard's smile only broadened.

"I've got my eyes on him alright," Gerard happily replied, before peacefully falling into a pleasant and enjoyable sleep.


	9. Come To An End?

**...Come To An End?  
**

Frank was awoken the next morning by a loud banging on his door. At first, he thought it was Gerard, coming early again to keep to his bet, but reality choked him when he realized who it was.

"Frank?" Pete asked, pounding on the locked door. "Open up!"

A couple of weeks ago, he might have willingly done so, thinking that the way Pete treated him was a sign of protective care. But he could see clearly now. There was no way he was going to open the door up for him, or Tina for that manner. What was he doing here so early anyway? Didn't Pete know that there were more people around in the daylight than there were at night? He would definitely get caught, Frank decided, pondering whether or not to open the door to let Pete fall into the trap. The sooner Pete was gone, the sooner he could be, or try to be, himself again. Because at the moment, he didn't like who he was, or the life he was living.

His mind traveled back to the phone conversation he and Gerard had, bringing a smile to his lips, despite Pete's shouting. He would have to call him more often. He had never had such a peaceful sleep before. That conversation was just what he needed. He remembered how he ended up complimenting Gerard on his looks, and from there, things escalated. The two of them were joking around, but he had finally found out that Gerard was gay! Now, just because he was gay didn't mean that Gerard liked him the way Frank did, but he was fine with the possibility alone. He'd just have to 'work' harder with Gerard. The thought of it made him chuckle a bit, happily cuddling in the sheets as Pete began to kick the door.

"Frank? Open the door, please," Tina then pleaded, falsely. "We're not here to hurt you." Anger boiled inside Frank at the sound of her voice, faking concern for him.

Not much later, the lock of his door was picked open and it opened up to reveal Pete, Tina, and his parents. _They _had opened the door to reveal a slightly pink and scratched up Frank, showing evidence of last night's abuse. Mrs. Iero looked like she wanted to go and check up on her son, but she thought better of it, and stayed by the side of her husband. She then debated whether or not to talk, seeing that no one else was. Frank stayed up, sitting in bed now, and Pete, Tina, and Frank had their eyes locked to one another's.

"What happened?" Mrs. Iero finally asked. "W-why...why does he look like that?"

"And what's that on his neck?" Mr. Iero added. "Is that what I think it is?"

"If you're talking about a hickey, then, yeah," Pete boldly said. Frank was confused at his manner. Was Pete actually confessing to them all?

"His mentor did this to him," Pete continued, and Frank's heart stopped beating for a moment.

"_What_?" Frank angrily asked. "Pete's lying!"

"We all know that Frankie's a bit shy," Tina started, looking towards the Ieros.

"Don't call me that," Frank growled at her. What the fuck were they doing? How dare she use the name Gerard called him? He didn't want to hear that name uttered from anyone else's lips besides Gerard. Gerard was the only one who rightfully owned Frankie. No one else. Especially not Tina.

"You see?" Pete tried to point out. "It's because of what Gerard does to him that he doesn't want to be called that."

"No!" Frank shouted furiously.

"Frankie, it's okay," Pete said. "They have to know." Frank shook his head angrily at their petty attempt to take Gerard away. Surely, this wouldn't work. His parents would believe him over a pair of strangers.

"Frank?" his mother asked him. "What's going on?"

"Pete—"

"Pete and Frank have grown real close," Tina said, interrupting Frank. Frank gave a look of bewilderment, but Tina continued. "He told something to Pete, and Pete told me, and then I told you."

"Frank's being touched by his sitter," Pete solemnly said, shaking his head and looking over at Frank with such pity.

Where was that pity when he was raping him? "What the fuck, Pete?" Frank boldly demanded, and tears came to Mrs. Iero's eyes. These events came to him as a double-shock. His mother never cried. At least, not around him.

"Gerard has been messing with Frank this whole time," Tina went on sadly. "It was no wonder why he came early, pulled Frank into his bedroom, and locked the door yesterday. Frank never told me anything because he was scared. I never thought anything of it because I never thought Gerard would..."

"Is it true?" Mrs. Iero hesitantly asked Frank, holding onto the doorway and her angered husband. "Have you...?" Frank refused to answer, not wanting to fall into the trap Pete and Tina were setting up. His mother, unfortunately, mistook that as a 'yes.'

"Frank, Gerard's not here, okay? You're safe," Tina said, playing off of his actions. Frank lost his cool, accusingly pointing at Pete and Tina.

"Just go away!" he shouted. "Gerard has done _nothing_! Pete's the one who touches me and does stuff to me, and makes me do stuff for _him_!"

"Frank!" Tina said, feigning a gasp. "Petey was only trying to help you—"

"I've had enough of this." Mr. Iero spoke weakly, but firmly enough to silence everyone in the room. For once, he wasn't yelling, but he seemed scared, maybe a bit broken by the fact that his son had been taken right under his nose. He took another sad look at his son before looking back at Pete, who timidly stood in the corner, hands in his pockets. "How long...has this been going on?" he asked Pete.

"Ever since he started working here," Pete said. "But if you're talking about Frank being a bit timid nowadays, it started about a year to two years ago."

"Because I've been with _him_," Frank snarled, and Tina took the opening chance to lock everything in.

"You mean that you knew Gerard before? That means he raped you a while ago," she reasoned.

"Yeah," Pete said, gaining confidence again, as he came up with another story. "Frank told me that Gerard decided to get bold and get himself _hired _so that he could get more access to him...it wasn't working out too well from school."

"Oh, Frank! Why didn't you tell anybody! You were only fifteen!" Tina exclaimed, looking at the Ieros to see if any effect was taking place.

It was.

"Stop it already," Frank demanded, and his father gave him a cold look.

"I said _quiet_, right?" Mr. Iero demanded, shutting Frank up. From the look on his father's eyes, Frank knew that if he spoke again, he would be very sorry for it later. Frank dejectedly shut his mouth and sat in bed as he watched it all unfold in front of him.

"How long have you known about it?"

"I found out yesterday," Pete answered.

"So...who did you say did this?" Mrs. Iero asked.

"Gerard."

"Gerard...the mentor we hired to watch over our Frank?" she repeated, and Pete nodded.

Frank opened his mouth to protest. This was insane. There was no way this was happening. He gave a pleading look to Pete to see if he would feel some sort of remorse for what he was doing, but of course, this was Pete. He wasn't human. He had no heart.

"Dad, this is craz—"

"No," Mr. Iero demanded. "I don't want to hear your excuse, Frank."

"_Excuse_?" Frank angrily asked. "Um, excuse me, dad, but I think I would know who's been _in _me," he bluntly stated. "Don't you?"

"Don't talk like that to your father," Mrs. Iero demanded, dabbing her eyes. "How could you keep something like this from us?"

"He's a mess," his father simply replied, and Frank was surprised a bit that he hadn't been hit for speaking to his father like that. Maybe his father was starting to believe him...

"You're not to see Gerard again," Mr. Iero said next.

...or maybe not.

"What...what the hell? Y-you can't _do _that! I'm the one who's being abused. _I know who's stuck their cock in my ass!_ I'm not stupid!" Frank shouted, rising from his position.

"It's final," Mr. Iero said in a deadly tone. "Gerard will not work here. And if he so much as steps in this house...may God forgive me..."

And with that, Mr. Iero stomped out of his son's room, tears coming to his eyes as well. Frank was left standing there, giving all of them deadly glares of his own. Tina and Pete had no right to do this to him. They had no right to screw Gerard over like that. And they definitely had no right to toy with his parents like that. What the fuck was wrong with them?

"What about pay?" Pete asked Mrs. Iero, who immediately shook her head. Pete began to grin at the happy news, his eyes finding their way to Frank's hate-filled ones. Frank wanted to knock the stupid grin off of Pete's face and give him some concussion to put him in a coma. Actually, it would be much better of the concussion he gave Pete ended up killing him as well.

"What pay?" Mrs. Iero finally asked. "Pay him? For tainting my son? Never."

Money was never an issue for Frank. He had at least enough money to get whatever it was that he wanted. But he knew how badly Gerard needed the money. Why else would he have been here, offering his whole summer to watch over some kid he didn't know? What hurt more for Frank was that money was never a topic in their conversations. With all the time and effort Gerard willingly put into the task, it seemed more like a friendship than a job. The least his parents could do for firing the wrong person and screwing up his life was give him the pay he had worked for and deserved.

"What?" Frank whispered, and she shook her head again.

"He's not here," his mother tried to reason with him. "He won't hurt you because he got fired."

"He won't talk to me ever again," Frank murmured sadly to himself.

"Who cares? He _raped _you, Frank," she said.

"No, he didn't," Frank replied evenly. "Rape is sleeping with someone against their will—"

"Or having sex with a minor," his mother finished, before heading out the room. "May I remind you that you don't turn eighteen until another couple of months? Rape is rape."

The doorbell rang, and Tina left the room, leaving Pete and Frank alone together. Frank heard Gerard's happy and excited voice, and he longed to be down there and see him, greet him, warn him of the hell that was approaching. But as he stepped forward, so did Pete, swiftly locking the door behind him as he came towards Frank, knocking him over onto his bed.

"Frank's told us that you've been molesting him," Frank heard his father claim, and he heard Pete give a triumphant chuckle at how easy the whole thing was. Frank wasn't even able to hear Gerard's response, but he must've been heartbroken. He probably thought that Frank had used material from the phone conversation in the early morning to 'frame' him, using his own words against him.

This was horrible. This wasn't supposed to happen. Gerard was supposed to come early again, kiss him good-morning to wake him up, and then Frank was going to try to win Gerard over. They were supposed to talk and hangout today, doing absolutely nothing but being around each other.

"I'm afraid you're fired," he continued. "We're not paying you for any of your past services, seeing that you've done nothing but molest out son for two years."

"W-what?" Gerard angrily sputtered. He then gave a nervous chuckle. "Okay, okay. Where's Frankie? Maybe we can get this settled or something."

At the use of his nickname, Frank started fighting against Pete, shoving him away. But Pete regained his hold on him, pinning him to the bed and exhausting Frank. Pete was about four years older than Frank, and taller, too.

"There must be some type of misunderstanding," Gerard tried again. "I mean, I like your son very much, but I've only known him for about...four days? A week? I dunno...Tina! Tina, you've seen us everyday, haven't you? I've never done anything..."

"I don't know what got into him," Frank heard Tina say, and Frank gave a gasp. They were framing everything on him. "Frank insisted that you were making him uncomfortable with the rape."

"_Rape_? What the hell...?" Gerard asked, fear coming through his voice. It tugged at Frank's heart, urging him to go, but he couldn't. He knew that if he did anything rash now, Pete would probably molest him right here, with his twisted sadistic mind.

"He doesn't want to see you, and _I _don't want to see you," Mr. Iero spoke, and Frank began to sob. He felt so helpless as he heard his father disgustedly say to Gerard, "Get out, you low piece of scum."

"Or, by the words of Frank, 'You cheap, dirty faggot," Tina interjected, slamming the door in Gerard's face. Frank stiffened at Tina comment. He had never said that. She was taking this way too far, slandering Frank and Gerard all at once.

Pete let his grip loosen a bit, and Frank jumped at the chance to reach Gerard. He got out of Pete's grasp and opened his door, running down the stairs to meet his worst fear. His dad and Tina had indeed kicked Gerard out, and they were heading back to their respected places, as if nothing had happened.

Pete had followed him out and started chuckling at Frank's sad position. Frank angrily stormed back upstairs shoving Pete aside as he entered his room. He scurried over to the windows, hoping to find that this had maybe little or no effect on Gerard, but he came to see a dejected and broken man slumping down the streets of Maxville Avenue alone.

Frank's chronic bronchitis started flaring up, and Pete continued laughing, "You're such a mess," between gasps as he made his way down the stairs, leaving Frank alone in his room. He started pounding on the window, willing Gerard to look back.

He never did.

Frank felt like he was in a vacuum, the air thinning with each dejected step Gerard took. He started gasping and grasping at nothing, his throat closing up as he gave futile attempts to call Gerard through the glass. He desperately tried to open the windows, but they were jammed, since he hadn't used them in years, never finding a useful purpose for an open window.

Was this death? If so, he welcomed it now, the sharp pains and agonizing stings lingering on his small torso, overwhelming his chest. It was too small; everything was too small. He couldn't lose Gerard. He knew that if he did, he'd shrink. Frankie would shrink so much that he would almost become non-existent, and he would never recover.

Using it as a last resort, Frank fumbled for his phone to call Gerard. After many attempts (his fingers had been hitting other keys during the process) he found Gerard's number, pressing it and dialing him. He waited anxiously, the breathing becoming more labored by the second with the thought of this situation as irreversible, slowly sinking into his head. Gerard refused to pick up. But he needed to pick up, so this misunderstanding would be misunderstood no more.

Gerard answered on the sixth ring on the fourth try, and Frank gave a gasp, his throat tightening by the moment. He tried to speak, but all that came out of his mouth was incoherent material, followed by a coughing spazz. That didn't matter to Gerard, though, because he didn't even wait for Frank to speak, instead interrupting Frank's failed attempts to speak.

"Why?"

"Huh?" Frank half asked and half gasped, and before he could say any more, Gerard hung up.

That was it. _That _was the last breath of air Frank needed, and it had now vanished forever and completely. The hurt and betrayal in Gerard's voice was too much for him. He never looked back, and kept walking, a little slower than before.

But if he had looked back, he would have seen Frank fall as his legs gave way, abandoning all hope.


	10. Loss Of Hope

**Loss Of Hope  
**

Tears stung in his eyes as Gerard sadly slumped down Maxville Avenue after the 'rape' incident. That had hurt him. There was no way that he thought things would go down this way. At least, not after the phone conversation he and Frank shared last night. If anything, he thought they were getting closer. Then again, just because Frank was gay didn't mean that he necessarily liked him. Maybe Frank was framing him the whole time, getting him to come out and say he was gay, to use that against him. Maybe Frank wasn't gay, and he was just feeding off of Gerard to get enough info to get him fired. I mean, he was just convicted of _raping _Frank. He probably did something to Frank that he didn't like.

The words Tina said Frank had uttered stung Gerard the most. 'Cheap, dirty faggot.' Was that how he came off as to everyone? His parents had called him that, and here was Frank calling him it also. It hurt more to hear it from Frank, though, because he was confiding in him, he liked him, he made him happy. To hear that from him devastated him.

To make things worse, Frank called him afterwards. He had heard Frank's _voice_. That alone was too much for Gerard. For Frank to call meant that he knew Gerard had heard the news. What, was he calling to gloat in Gerard's face that he won? That Gerard should've stayed away and stopped trying to prod deep into Frank to reveal Frankie? Maybe he hated how much Gerard focused on that. There were many times that he pointed out to him that he did way more than the job required. Maybe that annoyed Frank, who seemed to come from a family based on rules.

Once again, he was jobless because he let his feelings get in the way. He had, and still kinda did (despite what just happened), liked Frank, although it was apparent that Frank did not (but he could've fooled him).

A cold breeze whipped by, and Gerard gripped his arms closer together. He had forgotten his jacket from yesterday. Looked like he wasn't getting it back anytime soon, now, stuck in the Iero household. Another tear fell down his face when he thought about how the rape story even formulated. Now that he thought about it, it wouldn't have been too hard. He _did _have his jacket there. He could've said that Gerard came at night. That Gerard gave him certain marks, or touched him. Gerard couldn't say anything to defend himself really. What about all those times he and Frank spent alone together?

The telephone conversation replayed in Gerard's head. All he could think about were Frank's statements. Had he been hinting it all along? Even the 'kiss' request could fall into that category. He had said he would be waiting for his kiss later on. The kiss Gerard had given him at the bus stop was a 'good-bye' kiss. So did he symbolically mean that he would be saying 'bye' with Gerard's kiss?

The bus pulled up and he slowly boarded it, paying the toll fee. He'd come back here for the last time either later on today, or tomorrow, to pick up his jacket, the 'damning' evidence Frank probably used against him.

Gerard's problem was that he didn't take this babysitting job as a real _job_. But, it _was _a job, it was a business. And he learned the hard way not to mix business with pleasure.

* * *

Frank woke up, feeling a bit woozy. His breathing was a bit rushed, and his vision was blurry, and his chest hurt. He didn't know where he was, or what time it was, but he knew that his relationship with Gerard was now fucked. He had tried one futile attempt to reach Gerard, but Gerard made it obvious he could care less. The hurt and betrayal he had felt was transmitted through that agonizing question Gerard had immediately asked before hanging up right after. But Frank couldn't give up. Even if Gerard decided to never speak to him again, he had to make sure that Gerard knew the whole story. Whether or not Gerard would believe him was another issue, but he would have to learn to cope with his decision.

Frank finally cleared his eyesight and gasped when he saw that he was in his room, loosely tucked in bed, feet away from the spot where he had collapsed. Why…?

He frantically looked around and felt that there was another presence nearby, within the sheets. He shifted his position to take a look around his room and he gave a painful groan. He wasn't only aching in his chest from the past attack, but down under, from _there_. He retreated back into the sheets, looking around, and he gave a gasp when he realized that presence he felt was Pete's.

Putting the two and two together, he gave a frustrated groan. Was he forever to be Pete's sex toy? Why couldn't he man up? Well, in this case, he was knocked out cold, but the idea still held. Pete had gone to the extent of getting another man fired to ensure his hold on Frank. Why couldn't he fight back?

_Because he's about 4 years older_, Frank bitterly thought. _And no one believes me anyway. It's my word against the world's._ It hadn't been that way when Gerard was here, Frank knew. Even if it was, when Gerard came by, it didn't feel that way to Frank. He felt like he was an escape. But now, he had no one.

"You awake?" Pete sleepily asked, shifting his position after hearing Frank groan. Turns out, Pete's hand was still on Frank's lower extremities, and Frank felt him when his hand twitched. He was beginning to believe that the pains he had in his chest were probably related to what Pete was doing to him while he was out. He gave a sickened shudder at the thought and Pete began to lazily play around with him.

"You ready for round two already?" Pete continued, opening his eyes a bit now.

Frank moved away quickly, full of disgust. "You're sick. Get off of me," he demanded, easing away. Pete sat up and teasingly pulled Frank back towards him. Frank was no match, so he slid right over with Pete's grasp. Pete laughed, getting closer to Frank as Frank pleaded for Pete to stop. Pete chuckled at Frank's pathetic attempts, and Frank actually acted out, shoving Pete away for a moment, demanding, "_Stop_."

Pete's touch lost all friendliness after Frank's bold defiance, gruffly grasping Frank and pinning him to the bed. Frank struggled to break free, but he was restrained. "He's not coming back, Frank," Pete said as Frank was pinned down underneath him. "Forget it. Forget _him_."

"No!"

"He's gone, Frankie. Things are gonna get back to normal around here," Pete continued, licking his lips. Frank shoved him off again, getting out of his grasp and falling to the floor with a _thud_.

"No," he said, scrambling away, looking for his clothes. He could feel and see now that he was naked, and his phone…it had to be with the rest of his clothes. Pete might've been here, but the longer it took, the longer it would take for Gerard to hear what he needed to know. He deserved the pathetic truth: that the reason he had lost his job was because Frank was too chicken to be bold enough to stand up for him, and himself.

Pete calmly (to Frank's surprise) stayed in bed, stumbling across the room to find his cell phone. Pete seemed very amused by Frank's actions, chuckling at Frank's poor attempts. He had his cell phone, and he had deleted Gerard's number. Even if Frank got the phone back, he wouldn't be able to do anything. As a last resort, Frank warily turned back around to face Pete.

"You have it, don't you?" he realized, looking as if he was about to crumple to the floor.

"Do you know how long you've been out for?" Pete asked, ignoring his question as he pulled out the phone, inspecting it. "It's been nearly twelve hours, Frank."

"W-where are my parents?' Frank asked. He had to be lying…

"I told them I was having a talk with you about the whole thing, and how good it is that the secret's finally out—''

"There _is _no secret!" Frank interrupted him. "_You're_ the secret. And you got an innocent person fired."

"He's not innocent," Pete scoffed, and Frank ignored him. Who the hell was Pete to say whether or not Gerard was innocent? In this case, he was.

"Give me my phone," he demanded, nearing closer to Pete. Pete took the phone back, playing with it.

"Looks like no one called. Is that what you want it for? Because for the whole twelve hours that you've been out, you have no missed calls, Frankie," Pete taunted him.

"Don't call me that," Frank said, reaching for his phone and grabbing it from Pete. Pete gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Be my guest," he said, lying back in the bed. Frank picked up the phone and browsed through to see if he could find Gerard's number. To his dismay, he couldn't find it. It wasn't there, and Pete _knew_. He gave it away after giving a triumphant chuckle at Frank's distress.

"What's wrong? You didn't memorize you're 'boyfriend's' number yet?" Pete tauntingly asked as Frank hopelessly dropped his phone on the floor. It was a hopeless cause to try to reach Gerard. He guessed they probably weren't supposed to see each other ever again. That number was his last resort, and now that was gone. His eyes filled with tears with Pete's comment. He had purposely used the term 'boyfriend' even though he knew damn well they weren't even that close (although Frank would have loved that).

Pete slowly made his way to the lifeless Frank that stood before him, planting kisses along the nape of Frank's neck and gripping him from behind. Frank gave no response; it was all over. It was like Gerard had never come. He didn't have his number at all, he himself wasn't ever coming back, meaning that Frank would never see him or talk to him again. And even if Frank wanted to find Gerard, he couldn't because he had no clue where he lived. Gerard always came to _him_, not the other way around. And he was sure that there was no way Gerard would want to come to him. He probably hated Frank now.

Pete was right; things were going to go back to normal. He could feel it already, Pete's prodding hands and tongue violating him. He was going to forever remain Pete's sex-toy, never fighting for himself all the way through. Instead, he would cry. But the tears he cried would be mistaken for something else. There was no way his parents would think to connect Pete to his problems. Until and after Gerard, Frank had been like this, passive to Pete's action and violations. He was doing it now, letting Pete pull him closer for his comfort and pleasure. Pete's tongue made its way down Frank's neck to his collarbone, making Frank visibly shudder with disgust and pity for himself as Pete's tongue found its way to his nipple.

Maybe it was better things were this way. Gerard would never see or know about this. In fact, he didn't have to worry about Gerard because he was never going to see him again. Because it'd be surely a sad story to have Gerard find out about. He would be too ashamed. Maybe it was because this was going to continue that the events played out to make it that Gerard would get fired, to spare Frank from relaying the wretched truth. He wouldn't bring Gerard into his troubles. Better to keep him out, not telling him anything, and keep him safe and naïve.

Pete bit Frank's earlobe and lightly tugged at him, harshly whispering, "Come back to bed, Frankie." The force of the pull made the two of them collide on the bed, with Pete forcefully atop of Frank, maneuvering his way and controlling Frank's body and it's use to him.  
_  
This was just the way things were supposed to be_, Frank miserably thought. There was no need for him to try and remain optimistic. That optimistic force in his life was gone, now replaced with Pete.

Pete was Pete. He was the only constant force in his life. Unfortunately, Gerard must've been a 'fling' as his dad would put it. There was Pete before Gerard, and there was Pete after Gerard. There would be Pete there for him (unfortunately) forever and ever, amen.

He gave a sharp gasp as Pete's fingers found yet another way to amuse his sadistic obsessions with Frank. It hurt so fucking much, feeling Pete inside him like that, pinching and squeezing.

But what else could he do?


	11. Change of Events

**Change of Events**

Gerard solemnly sat inside the bus, waiting for it to make it back to Frank's town. Mikey never came home yet, and Gerard couldn't bear to face him and tell him that he got fired and what he was accused of. Mikey would probably believe the accusation, on account of what he basically told the whole apartment yesterday. He had already made an appointment with him for the continuous flow of money, but he didn't want to lead Mikey into another lie.

He honestly couldn't believe Frank had said that. It didn't sound like him at all. Then again, he didn't know him long enough to really come to any solid conclusion. And Frank was beginning to seem a bit wary to Gerard. You would think that if someone were truly innocent that they'd try again to contact him, but not in Frank's case. Unless something happened…

The bus came to a halt, and Gerard briskly stepped out, grimly making his way back down the street where he had earlier walked down in embarrassment. Even if he were to come to terms and accept being fired, he still needed his jacket. And he needed to talk to Frank to figure out what he did wrong.

After another few minutes, he came across the Iero household and let himself in. It would be best to enter inconspicuously, being that most people did on a regular basis. He didn't need to bring any attention to himself. If he did, he was sure to be kicked out by Mr. Iero and the whole family.

He tried to lightly close the door so that Tina wouldn't be able to hear him from the next room, but he failed, the door emitting a loud bang. He froze, cursing at himself. It would be really distressing to have come here and then be kicked out to go home.

After he made sure the coast was clear, he discreetly crept to Frank's room and he made sure to quietly open the door.

* * *

Frank tightly held on to Gerard's jacket as he began to wildly stuff a few of his clothing into a plastic bag. He was tired of it. He was going to leave. He was going to run away somewhere. Shelter wouldn't be a problem, because he had money in his bank account. He could always take out money and control the use of it. The only problem is that his parents would be able to trace him, and he'd be brought back home. But those few days away from Pete would still do some good for him.

He took another sniff of Gerard's jacket. Letting go of it or leaving it behind would mean he was leaving Gerard behind. But doing that would let Pete win, and Frank wasn't going to let that happen. He was tired of being used. Running away would buy him some time. Packing another pair of clothing inside the bag, he dragged it to his bedside before collapsing on the bed, closing his eyes with Gerard's jacket tucked in his arms…

A door downstairs slammed shut, awakening Frank. It was probably another business associate entering his home. Another stranger.

This was what his life was meant to be like again, stranger after stranger entering his home, his retreat. Gerard was the nice stranger he had met that had actually become his friend, so he didn't count. But now he was gone anyway. He was gone, but his jacket was proof that he had existed. Frank took another whiff of Gerard's jacket, becoming addicted to the scent of the man he would never see again. He was torturing himself, reminding himself of how happy he was when he was around, and how painstakingly slow the days would now be, full of nothing but Pete's presence.

A tear was released from his right eye, and soon, a sob escaped his throat. Gerard had probably felt so embarrassed by it all. After all, if Frank hadn't been part of it, all he had to do was to stick his head out the door and defiantly insist that Gerard did nothing. But when Gerard was there, Frank didn't say anything. Maybe Gerard would have understood more if he saw what unfolded earlier, but he hadn't. It was then that Frank had needed him. He should've said something.

He had really liked Gerard, too. It was the first time that he had told anyone that he was gay, and it was fun being around him. He made his work seem like play. He made Frank not want to be afraid to show how he felt again, to show whether he was happy, sad, angry, shocked…Frank was becoming his old self, before he met Pete, who had told him no one cared or gave a fuck, but he'd always be there. Gerard cared and gave a fuck, but Pete took him away. Showed how much he cared. Gerard would've been there for him if he was given the chance.

He breathed in Gerard's scent again, another sob escaping his throat as images started coming to his head. With the shadows bouncing around his walls, he thought he could picture a disappointed shadow of Gerard, standing near the door. He knew he was seeing things now, but that didn't stop him from crying to it.

The hallucination neared Frank, each step emitting a noise from the floor. He was terrified. If this was truly his imagination that had created it, it meant that this Gerard was going to do whatever Frank imagined he would do, and at the moment, he figured that Gerard was probably pissed of at him. So, he naturally thought that the Gerard his mind had created was coming to beat him up for screwing him over. With Gerard nearing him, Frank decided that it was best to apologize. Maybe his conscience was what was providing him with the threatening image of Gerard. Sensing that he would never talk to Gerard or see him again, his mind was giving him this last pathetic escape route of the apology he never got to make.

"I'm so sorry, Gerard," Frank moaned into the jacket, hiccupping at the end. He started mumbling messages incoherently, like, "I'm..never…again," and "I…got past him." Frank had thought that through all his babbling that he had heard Gerard's voice, so he thought he wasn't doing well enough. He was doing so badly that his mind thought it was necessary to add voices to the mix. As if hallucinating wasn't enough.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated again, gripping the jacket tightly. "T-Tina was in on it all along! Your number…my parents believed them, and they—they—''

"Frankie?"

Frank heard a familiar voice softly call out to him as he felt a hand on his cheek. He refused to open his eyes, burying them into the jacket. Apparently, his mind had decided that if Gerard were here, this wouldn't have been enough, making him recall Gerard's voice and his touch.

Gerard began to gently stroke at Frank's cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen, and Frank let another sob come out, still in denial. "Don't cry, Frankie," Gerard whispered, and engulfed him in a hug. It was then that Frank realized that it was all real, and Gerard was here, right now. Frank threw his arms around Gerard and Gerard welcomed him, crooning and rocking him back and forth that everything was okay. He started rubbing Frank's back, comforting him.

"Gerard?" Frank whimpered, holding him close in fear of it all being a façade.

"I'm right here," Gerard said, holding Frank protectively as Frank continued to sob. "Don't worry, Frankie."

* * *

In all the confusion, Gerard hadn't seriously considered the fact that Frank might've been the victim. According to what Frank had told him a while after he stopped sobbing, Tina's boyfriend wouldn't let Frank leave the room. Tina had been getting jealous of all the time Gerard had been spending with him, Frank said, especially since Frank only knew him for a couple of days, and Tina had known him for almost four years. His parents had unfortunately believed her story instead of Frank's, which was why Gerard got fired.

"What was he doing to hold you back?" Gerard empathetically asked, feeding into Frank's story.

"He said that he would tell them that I was gay," Frank lied. "And he said he'd go down there and help his girlfriend out. I'm so sorry," Frank said again, shifting his position from Gerard's embrace. He couldn't get too close to Gerard. He probably stunk of Pete, as did the bed. Gerard cleared his throat and backed away, realizing the awkwardness of the situation. Frank timidly handed over Gerard's jacket to him, hoping that the scent hadn't died out.

"Thanks," Gerard said, getting back up and debating whether or not to stay.

"So…where're you headed to now?" Frank sadly asked, avoiding eye contact with Gerard. Gerard shrugged.

"I…I dunno," he admitted. "I won't lie to you: I kind liked this job. A lot. But, I guess it's just God's way of saying I don't belong here. Maybe this job wasn't meant for me to do, you know? I mean…there's a guy that lives around me…I was making money from him before anyway."

"I'll pay you," Frank quickly offered, looking up at him. "I know my parents said they wouldn't pay you, but I'll pay you. I already have some access to my account, and I'll get full access when I'm eighteen, so I'll pay you—''

"It's okay, Frank," Gerard said, shaking his head. "I don't want to bother you." Frank gave Gerard a sad smile, and nodded his head as if in agreement with him. But it looked off to Gerard. "What?" he asked.

"You…It's not important."

"No, tell me," Gerard insisted.

"Well, you…you called me Frank…instead of Frankie. I-It's not important, I know," Frank said, trying to brush it off.

"No, I didn't even realize! I'm sorry," Gerard apologized. "I never meant to offend you. You just sound so business like and kinda formal, talking about payments and stuff. Frank is more business like than Frankie, no?" Frank smiled and an awkward silence followed.

"Well," Gerard said after a while. "I'll be going now…" he grabbed his jacket and lightly brushed his finger on Frank's cheek as he lay in bed.

"I really had a fun time with you, Frankie," he said, chuckling so that the gravity of the situation would not sink in or hurt as much. Frank gave a subtle smile, seeming preoccupied as Gerard bent down to give Frank the kiss he promised he'd give him.

His goodbye kiss.

Sensing that this would be the last time he's see Gerard if he didn't do something soon, Frank pulled away before Gerard got a hold of him. A flash of disappointment reflected in Gerard's eyes as he retreated, wounded by Frank's act. He pulled back, throwing a weak smile at Frank as he turned and dejectedly headed towards Frank's door. Maybe things were a lot worse than he thought. Maybe that had been too bold of him.

"Wait."

Frank rose from the sheets and took big clumsy steps towards his door in an attempt to reach Gerard, his legs still getting adjusted to being put to use. He used his hands and held them outstretched from his body. "Wait," he repeated, and he finally caught Gerard, who had stopped and faced Frank with a blank expression. He was already apprehensive of what was going to happen. Would Frank ditch him or something? Had he come up of reasons why Gerard wasn't good enough?

For an effect, Frank took his hands and grasped on to Gerard, engulfing him in a hug, which confused Gerard. Frank held on tightly, kissing Gerard's chest before looking up pleadingly.

"Take me with you."


	12. Sleepover

**Sleep Over**

"What the fuck?" Mikey angrily demanded, pointing to his wristwatch. "It's almost twelve! Twelve A.M! Where the hell wer—''

"Shh," Gerard demanded as he carried a sleeping Frank into their apartment. Mikey's eyes widened even more.

"Who the hell is this?"

"Frank," Gerard muttered using his foot to close the door. "Lower it down, will you? He's sleeping."

"I see that," Mikey replied evenly. "That's what I'd be doing if you came home on time, or at least called me."

"I couldn't call you because I left my jacket over there," Gerard said, shrugging Mikey off. He had his cell on him, but he didn't want to come home to tell Mikey that he had gotten fired.

"I still don't see why you came home late," Mikey continued. "You have a good three to four hours alone before I come. And if that kid came with you, I'm guessing you left early."

"Mikey, I'm here now, okay? Don't worry about that." Gerard gave his brother an annoyed look before gently placing Frank on the mattress that they had on the floor.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" Mikey asked, hovering over Frank.

"I never said you couldn't sleep there," Gerard said, trying to pull the jacket Frank tightly wound around himself. It had been cold outside. Fall weather was coming early…

As Gerard began to lightly tug at the jacket, Frank began to murmur for him not to. He shut his eyes tighter, gripping his jacket protectively. Gerard chuckled at the cute display, giving another attempt to free Frank from the jacket.

"Don't go," Frank insisted, his face becoming gloomy. An adorable frown was etched on his face, so Gerard let go. With each step Gerard took away from Frank, a smile formed on Frank's lips. A smile soon reached Gerard's lips, and he happily walked over to the dresser, taking a glimpse of the sleeping Frankie every five seconds.

"Did you fuck him?" Mikey finally asked, after observing the little tug-of-war he and Frank had, and how Gerard kept grinning like an idiot back at Frank, who was grinning like an idiot himself in his sleep.

"No!" Gerard angrily hissed, finding a pair of nightclothes. Mikey could see Gerard blush before he had a chance to hide it, and Mikey preyed on his uneasiness.

"You fucked Frank, didn't you?" he continued, looking back at Frank. Frank began to move, as if he was about to wake up. Gerard immediately threw Mikey a death glare, and he stopped taunting him. He continued changing into his clothes after Frank snuggled into the bed again, ceasing all movement except for the continuous rhythm of his stomach going up and down.

"Quiet the fuck down," Gerard hissed at Mikey after putting on his pants. "And no, I did not sleep with Frankie."

"Oh, really?" Mikey asked. "It's Frankie now?"

"Fuck off Mikey," Gerard warned him. Mikey sat down on the couch, still keeping his eyes on Frank and Gerard. Gerard thought that he had finally convinced Mikey to shut up, but he was far from it.

"So he's having a sleepover?" he asked loudly, not minding Frank at all. "His parents actually let him out the house? I thought you said he was caged in there or something."

"He is…in a way," Gerard calmly admitted.

"So…?" Mikey looked at Gerard for an explanation. "Are you sending him back home tomorrow?"

"Um, no…" Gerard replied, looking for a t-shirt. "I'm, uh, never going there again, actually."

"So he's going back alone? Or are you trying to pin this on me?" Mikey asked, still prodding for an answer. "I want to know how long I'll be sleeping on the couch."

"I never said you had to sleep on the couch," Gerard pointed out.

"Answer the questions, Gerard," Mikey said. "I want to know what the fuck's going on."

"I, uh…" Gerard stopped looking for the shirt and looked at Mikey. "I got fired today," he started, and Mikey snickered.

"I told you not to try and help me," Mikey continued, and Gerard blushed.

"You win, okay?" he said. "But maybe I wasn't made to make money like that."

"Like what?" Mikey asked. "What, you wanna be a stripper or something?" he joked, bringing out a dollar. He threw it at Gerard, who flinched. Mikey didn't know just how close to the truth he was. Gerard picked up the dollar as if inspecting it while Mikey giggled.

"I can't imagine you a stripper, Gerard," Mikey admitted, relaxing into the couch. "And if worse comes to worse, I've still got my job." Gerard gave a shrug, still staring at the money.

This stupid piece of paper was messing up lives. It made Mikey struggle so much for a twenty year old, paying for rent in an expensive apartment. It was making Gerard do things he wouldn't have otherwise done. It was also messing up Frank's life, making his parents neglect him, and hindering him from growing up in the type of atmosphere he needed as a child, making Frank grow up too fast, and grow up alone.

"Hey, Gerard?" Mikey called after a while. "I was just kidding about the whole stripper thing," he said, getting up to see what was wrong with his brother. "It was a harmless joke."

"Hm? What?" Gerard asked, bringing his attention back to a concerned Mikey. "I'm fine…" he assured him, looking back at the money.

"So…what's Frank doing here?" Mikey asked, returning to the subject at hand. Gerard didn't respond. Only one other thing made sense. Knowing Gerard and how crazy he could get sometimes, and knowing that he just got fired…

"You kidnapped him, didn't you?" Mikey asked, sitting up. "Holy shit, Gerard."

"No! I didn't do anything," Gerard said, defending himself. "I went back to get my jacket, like I said. Frank asked if he could come."

"He's still a kid, Gerard," Mikey said. "I know he's about to turn eighteen, but he isn't yet."

"But—''

"You didn't have his parents' permission, right?" Mikey interrupted.

"It could be a sleepover, like you said," Gerard suggested.

"But you still don't have any permission," Mikey argued. "They just fired you, so I'm guessing that they don't want you around their son. You've now taken him with you, and they have no idea where he is. They're gonna charge you with kidnap, Gerard."

Gerard sat on the couch next to Mikey. He was right, but would he actually give Frank back? Frank seemed so miserable over there. When Gerard snuck into his room, he came to find Frank crying. Over here, there wasn't even a sniffle. And if he sent Frank back, he knew he'd never see him again. Gerard took a deep breath, realizing the situation he put himself in. He had just kidnapped Frank. It didn't matter that Frank had asked him too. He was still to young to give consent of any kind. He had kidnapped someone, and he wasn't willing to give him back. Frank's parents would probably think he kidnapped him for ransom, too, considering that he just lost his job. He knew that if he didn't return Frank by the end of the night, then he was screwed. He took a dreaded look at the clock to see that it was five past twelve.

He wasn't going to give Frank back, he decided, looking at him peacefully slumber. He seemed happier to be away from his home. He didn't want to be a part of the problems Frank had to deal with. His life was half screwed anyway. What was kidnap on his permanent record going to do to him?

"You've got to send him back," Mikey said, speaking as the voice of reason. Gerard absently nodded, giving Mikey what he wanted to hear. But there was no way he'd let the evil Frank was running away from win. He was going to watch over Frank now. He'd have to leave Mikey without putting him danger; He would have to wake Frank up and they would leave early in the morning without him telling Mikey where they were. This was going to land him in a lot of shit if he ever did get caught (which he was sure he would, eventually).

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a shove from Mikey. "Wha…?"

"You're in my bed," Mikey said, chuckling. "I'm gonna pull out the couch chair and sleep on that."

"Are you sure?" Gerard asked, getting up. "The offer still stands."

"I'm 100% sure," Mikey said. "I do not want to lie in the same bed with the guy my brother talks about in his sleep."

"Shhhhh," Gerard demanded, and Mikey laughed. He laughed even harder when Frank shifted his position in bed again and woke up after the loud comment.

Frank groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes. His hair was tousled and parts of it stuck to his forehead, matted from how he held on to and nuzzled into Gerard's jacket. He took a dazed look around, observing the alien atmosphere. He gave a cute perplexing look when he realized he wasn't home sleeping in his bed, but he was sleeping in a bare room that luckily had a mattress on the floor where he was. It seemed to be the only piece of furniture, besides the chair in the corner.

"You okay, Frankie?" Gerard asked him. Frank continued looking around until he saw him, immediately relaxing with a lazy smile on his face. Mikey giggled again, expediting Frank's adjustment. He hadn't realized that Mikey was there, which made him conclude he was in Gerard's home.

However, Mikey was laughing for a different reason: the bulge beginning to form in his brother's pants. Gerard's face turned red and he quickly turned around, looking for clothes to cover himself with.

Frank blinked, now noticing that Gerard wasn't facing him anymore, and that his brother was now laughing hysterically. Had he imagined Gerard looking at him? That was plausible. After all, he was still sleepy. He stifled a yawn before he realized Gerard's jacket was still in his hands. There was probably drool all over it now. Gerard had given it back to Frank when they had walked over to the bus stop, because Frank was freezing his ass off waiting for the damn bus.

Frank took another look around the bed and realized how spacious it was with no one crowded next to him. He noticed Gerard's brother was taking the space for granted, sprawling his legs everywhere on the couch bed. Frank took another look at Gerard and realized what Gerard might be doing with the extra pieces of clothing around him. Gerard had probably offered up his bed for Frank to sleep on. There was no other cushion in the room, so he guessed Gerard was probably going to use the clothes he had out to soften the top of the dresser for him to sleep on.

"Having trouble?" Mikey asked as Gerard grabbed up clothing and held it over his 'area.' Gerard glared at Mikey, giving him a dirty look. It was his fault that Frank was awake now. He loved his brother, but sometimes he wanted to kill him.

"What does it look like?" he snapped, abandoning the idea of holding the clothes over himself. He looked around for the laundry bag. Maybe he'd pretend that he was doing the laundry…at twelve o'nine in the morning. He knew it was unrealistic, but what else did he have? Taking the bag, he started to stuff it with the clothing on his dresser. He only packed a few, enough to cover his 'little buddy' along with the rest of his sweatpants. Mikey gave a snicker, shook his head, and went to sleep, getting comfortable in the couch bed.

"Gerard?" Frank roughly asked, and Mikey changed his position, getting comfortable in the bed, anticipating something again from Gerard.

"Are you holding on tightly to the bag, Gerard?" Mikey teased pissing off Gerard.

"Fuck off, Mikes," he demanded, although he did hold the bag closer to him. He turned his attention to Frank, sweetly asking, "Yeah, Frankie?" It was in such a different tone than the one he had just previously used on his brother, and Frank giggled at how quickly he made the transition. Gerard, on the other hand, was biting his lip. He had to go relieve himself now. Standing here with Frank smiling at him, giggling at his actions, and staring at him almost imploringly was torturing Gerard with the state he was in. Damn Mikey for waking him up. Sleepy Frankie was cute.

"Do you wanna sleep with me?" Frank innocently asked, making space for Gerard on the mattress. Mikey snickered again, muttering to himself, "Of course he does." Gerard stuffed some more clothes into the bag before answering Frank.

"It's okay, Frankie," he said, his voice a bit scratchy and his face a bit pink. "I have somewhere to sleep. Don't worry." Gerard threw him a quick smile before heading out the room and into the hallway.

Frank fell back into the bed and started thinking of another way to convince Gerard to come on the mattress. He had already caused Gerard enough trouble by tagging along. Frank decided he would try again when Gerard came. He was determined to get Gerard into the bed with him.

Gerard didn't come back until a while later, and he brought the bag back, so Frank figured the doors to the laundry machines were closed. Gerard looked around, debating where to go. He spotted Frank staring at him and smiled. "You should go to sleep, Frankie," he said, walking over in his direction now.

"I realized that I probably took your spot and all," Frank said, moving over and inviting Gerard. He had said that having all this space for himself was a bit weird for him. He wasn't used to having it all. He honestly didn't know what to do with it. Gerard looked like he was debating whether or not to join Frank, and Frank raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you won't mind?" Gerard asked, cautiously sitting down on the bed. He stared at Frank, who nodded.

"I don't mind," Frank said. "In fact, I'm not used to all this space."

"You're lying to me," Gerard said, grinning. "You just want me here, don't you? I've seen your bed, Frankie. It's huge." Frank smiled, noticing his slip. Gerard was right, but he had no idea about Pete coming in and out every night. It was nice though, for Gerard to turn it into a flirtatious remark. That meant that everything was cool between the two of them. Frank smiled even wider when Gerard started giggling.

Gerard's giggling soon resided, and was soon replaced with a frown on his face. Frank's smile soon disappeared from his face as well. "What?" he apprehensively asked.

"Are you calling me fat?" Gerard joked, pinching his cheeks. "I'm fat, Frankie?"

"No!" Frank quickly insisted. "You're the perfect size."

"Suck up," Mikey mumbled, turning over in his sleep. Gerard pulled Frank close, hugging him and breathing in his scent.

"No, he's not," Gerard said as Frank giggled. "He's just smarter than you, Mikes." Mikey grumbled, and Gerard gave Frank a kiss on the cheek. Frank continued to giggle, lying back in bed.

"Sleep with me," Frank insisted, patting the bed. Mikey pretended to cough, sputtering "rape." Gerard rolled his eyes and Frank giggled, recognizing Mikey's understatements.

"Excuse my little brother," Gerard said. "He's being a pervert."

"As if you aren't," Mikey muttered.

"I thought you wanted to go to sleep," Gerard snapped at him, and Frank giggled again, before returning to bed. Gerard sat there, watching the two of them sleep. It was a pretty sight watching Frank sleep. He looked so peaceful, which was something Gerard hadn't seen enough of. He was always either worried or preoccupied with something else. Gerard sat there, staring at Frank for a good two minutes before Frank groggily sat up again.

"You gonna sleep?" he asked, and Gerard smiled.

"Don't worry about me," he said, urging Frank to go back to sleep. Frank gave a sigh, turning over.

"I told you Gerard, I don't mind you sleeping here," he said moving aside and patting the bed as drowsiness overtook him.

"Are you sure—''

"Sleep with me," Frank gruffly interrupted, yanking on his arm and pulling Gerard down on the bed. Gerard and Frank both laughed. Frank was 100% aware of the pun included this time, and he smiled at Mikey for bringing it to light earlier.

The giggling subsided as he began to drowse off, and he felt Gerard finally give in and snuggle next to him, making Frank smile in his sleep again. He lightly pushed Gerard's jacket away. There was no need for him to keep the jacket now. Not when he had Gerard in the flesh lying next to him.


	13. Brutal Reality

**Brutal Reality**

Frank woke up after the door slammed and he found himself face-to-nose with Gerard, whose arm was acting like a pillow to Frank. He lifted his head and saw a heap of sheets where Mikey was supposed to be, so he figured it was him that just left.

He nuzzled closer to Gerard, who snorted. Frank started giggling, getting even closer to him and playing with his hair. Gerard was soon smiling, and Frank grinned at the small accomplishment.

Frank breathed in his scent and relaxed into the bed, becoming mesmerized by Gerard's lulling breaths as Gerard welcomed him, pulling him by his side. Frank had desperately wished he had met him sooner, or in another way. He could honestly see a promising future with him. Gerard made him happy. If he wasn't happy, Gerard would go out of his way to make sure he was. He wanted to do the same for him, too. But all he managed to do so far was screw his life up. He wanted to try and be successful…

Gerard chuckled in his sleep, bringing Frank's attention back to him. His lopsided grin was driving Frank crazy. Frank wanted to kiss him. He bet he could kiss him and get away with it. It would be so easy to crawl on top of him and kiss him chest down, all the while Gerard thinking it was a dream…

Frank's eyes diverted their attention down to that area he would've met if he did kiss Gerard down his chest, and he saw why Gerard was grinning in his sleep. He stifled in another giggle, eyeing Gerard's expression as he 'accidentally' brushed a hand by the area. Gerard raised his eyebrows and stopped breathing, which scared Frank. He had to stop it, as funny as it was. He didn't know Gerard well enough to play with him like that, and he was sure Gerard probably wouldn't think of it as funny.

Instead, he opted for the safer route, and kissed Gerard on his cheek, earning a grin and a groan from Gerard.

"Gerard?" Frank asked, kissing his cheek again.

Gerard slowly opened his eyes to find that he was truly holding Frank next to him. He was surprised to see that Frank was wide-awake, going along with it all and letting himself be squashed by him. "Frankie?" He asked, sitting himself up. "Wha…?"

"Yeah, Gerard?" Frank asked, straddling himself on Gerard as well, and Gerard gave him a flustered look. This was definitely a turn-on, not that he needed one at the moment. His little buddy was already up and running. And the way Frank was glued to him right now wasn't of much of help either. He was going crazy with Frank's body pushed up against his, the friction between the two of them perfectly unbearable for Gerard.

But he couldn't do anything to Frank. He was his 'hostage.' He had just 'kidnapped' him. He didn't want to add 'rape' to the list, too. Besides, Frank probably thought nothing more of this than cuddling. Nothing sexual about it.

Frank finally looked up, his childish and innocent eyes looking into Gerard's. "What's up?" he asked, boyishly grinning at him. Gerard gave him another worried look.

"Did…did I do anything?"

"No," Frank said, giggling and moving away a lock of Gerard's hair. "And I don't mind anyway. I like it. It's nice." He smiled up at Gerard, going down to hug him again. In the process, Gerard's boner was brushed, and he gave a sharp gasp.

"F-Frankie," Gerard said, trying to remain stern. "I…I need to go."

"What?" Frank asked worriedly. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"Doing what wrong?" Gerard asked. "The cuddling?"

"Yeah," Frank said, shifting his position on Gerard. Frank had lifted his leg on Gerard, putting him between his legs. Gerard bit his lip again. "This better?" Frank asked, about to shift again.

"I really gotta go, Frankie," Gerard said, quickly getting out of bed. If he didn't get out of bed like he had, he was sure he probably would have told Frank, "No, it's not better. You need to open your legs wider than that."

Frank stayed in bed, giving Gerard a questioning look. Gerard, however, ran out the room in search for the bathroom, or any place to relieve himself. Frank shouldn't have done that, he knew, but he wanted to move things along. He wanted Gerard to think of him more than just a little boy. It was nice and all with Gerard feeling the need to watch over him, yet he wanted Gerard to want him as badly as he did. But Gerard seemed like a guy full of morals, and Frank knew Gerard wouldn't even think of messing with him. He probably just thought of him as a gay-buddy. That was cool enough, Frank guessed. If worse came to worse and he ended up back home, he'd just think of Gerard the next time Pete visited.

Frank took a look around the spacious apartment room. The place was pretty bare, with a mattress on the floor and an old abandoned couch in the corner. On the other side of the room was the dresser, the refrigerator and garbage can. The bathroom was outside in the hallway, and they didn't have their own bathroom. Gerard had it much worse than he ever did, and Gerard at least deserved the pay he earned. Yesterday's events replayed in his head and he immediately felt guilty again. Frank lazily got out of bed, looking for his belongings so he could find his wallet. He was determined to pay Gerard everything he earned, even though he knew Gerard was going to try and refuse. It was in his nature, Frank realized, but Gerard badly needed it. It was apparent that he was suffering badly. As if on cue, Gerard entered and called his name.

"Frankie?" he asked, shuffling into the room and coming close to Frank.

"Good morning," Frank said, smiling at him before continuing the search for his wallet and a shirt.

"Good morning to you, too," Gerard chuckled, rummaging through Frank's things. "What're you doing?" he asked him. Frank put a fresh shirt over himself.

"I'm looking for money," Frank said, distractedly returning to the matter at hand.

"Why?" Gerard asked him, and Frank looked up at him, determination shinning through his eyes.

"Because you deserve it," Frank said simply. "I don't care what my parents think. I'm paying you the money you worked for." Gerard laughed at Frank's resolve, though, shrugging him off as he went to open the blinds to let some air in.

"Don't worry about that, Frankie," Gerard told him, smiling. He went over to Frank and grabbed his bag from him, ruining Frank's search.

"I'm serious," Frank sputtered, trying to get it back, and Gerard held it high above him.

"It's okay," Gerard said, putting the bag behind him. "I'll get money another way." Frank opened his mouth to protest and Gerard told him, "Forget it."

"I don't wanna forget it," Frank insisted. "How about I won't pay you for the job then? I'll pay you for taking me with you, hm?"

"What do you wanna do today?" Gerard asked, ignoring his rant. "There's a nice café down by the mall area."

"If you do anything, I'll pay you," Frank warned him, and Gerard chuckled again, closing up the couch pullout bed.

"I don't wanna get paid," Gerard told him. "I just wanna hang out with Frankie today, okay?"

"Well," Frank started. "I dunno, cuz Frankie still feels like shit for getting you fired yesterday."

"I don't want Frankie to see this as a bad thing, but a good thing," Gerard explained.

"How the hell am I supposed to see this as a good thing? How the hell are you supposed to see this as a good thing?" Frank incredulously asked.

"Well, Frankie," Gerard said, getting really excited and into it. "Let's say I was still working for you." Frank nodded, following Gerard and helping him with the pullout bed. "That would make us business associates, " he continued.

Mikey stepped into the room and waved at both Gerard and Frank. Frank grinned at him, and Gerard smiled. The two of them finally got rid of the pullout bed and collapsed on the couch, inches away from each other. Mikey pulled out his shirt, explaining, "I forgot it." Gerard nodded at him and he continued to leave the room.

"Anyway, like I was saying, we'd be like business associates," Gerard continued. Mikey came back in to get his toothbrush, when he heard, "…and business associates are not supposed to have relationships of any kind with each other," from Gerard.

"Neither are little kids and twenty-two year olds," he grumbled at his brother, quickly leaving the room for good, before Gerard could throw anything at him. Frank giggled at Gerard's analogy and Mikey's smart-ass comment. He was a pretty funny guy.

Gerard waited for Frank to stop giggling and he told him, "I seriously think we should move today."

"Huh?" Frank asked, getting up from his resting position. "Move? Why?"

"If we stay and anybody gets the faintest idea that you may be with me, then it'll all be over," Gerard told him. "They'll find us here, waiting for them."

"I'll just leave then," Frank offered, about to get off the couch. "I dragged you into it, and I can drop you out," Frank reasoned to him. Gerard grabbed his arm, keeping him routed.

"No, you can't," Gerard said, laughing. Frank gave him a questioning look.

"Yes, I can," he told Gerard, and Gerard shook his head letting go of Frank as he sat back in the chair.

"I kidnapped you…" Gerard said aloud, as if in a trance. The smile faded from his lips as he distantly stared out the window.

Gerard was scared shitless. He honestly didn't know what he was going to do. He had taken Frank just because. Well, in reality, Frank had asked him to, but Frank was still a minor. He never thought ahead. And here he was, presented with the opportunity to hand Frank back, and he was resistant.

"You didn't kidnap—''

"Yeah, I did Frankie," he interrupted Frank, finally admitting it aloud. Gerard laid his head on the couch and closed his eyes, mumbling, "I've kidnapped you, and I'm holding you at ransom…"

Frank looked at the hopelessness etched out on Gerard's face. Frank regretted asking Gerard to take him. He hadn't thought ahead. All he had wanted was to be with Gerard. But now that Gerard had clearly spelled it out for him, technically, he had been kidnapped, whether or not he had wanted to be. But what was the 'ransomed' part about? Frank gave him an empathetic look and Gerard gazed into Frank's surprised and confused eyes.

"At least, that's what the world's gonna think," Gerard lightly explained, managing to grin and make light of the situation again. But Frank wasn't blind. He knew he was stressing Gerard. It made him unhappy to see that the one true place he wanted to be wasn't ready for him yet. But he should've known better. He shouldn't have expected Gerard to stop everything for Frank just because it was his fantasy. This was reality, and reality could be harsh sometimes. Gerard had enough on his plate. He didn't need to add himself to the list of problems.

"Gerard, don't worry," Frank sadly said, smiling at him as he rose from the chair. "You don't need to worry about me."

"What?" Gerard asked, trying to make eye contact with Frank, but Frank avoided him. "What are you saying, Frank?" He worriedly rose from the chair as well.

"You don't need to worry about me," Frank repeated, meeting Gerard's gaze. He went over to the chair again after getting his bag. "I appreciate you taking me yesterday."

"What are you doing, Frank?" Gerard fearfully asked.

"Thank you for being such a good friend," Frank continued, smiling at Gerard. "I'll call you when I get home, okay?"

"What do you mean 'when you get home'?" Gerard demanded, rising from the chair.

Frank took a deep breath before he simply told Gerard, "Because I'm leaving you today."


	14. In Command

**In Command**

"I mean, no one knows that I left with you, so if I go back home now, you should be fine," Frank quickly explained when he saw the pained look on Gerard's face. He hadn't meant to offend him. "I-I'll get you off the hook…" he continued.

"No," Gerard sternly said, shaking his head. Frank froze at the change of his voice. It was scary and intimidating.

"I could always come back—''

"Would you go home if I let you go right now?" Gerard asked, interrupting Frank. Just as he thought, Frank avoided answering the question.

"But that's not your problem," Frank argued.

"It is now," Gerard said, scoffing. "I can't just pick you up and let you go anywhere. It's still kidnap."

"Then…I'll go back…home," Frank hesitantly said. He then shrugged, firmly and truthfully admitting, "If it'll get you off the hook, I'll go back home."

"That's not good enough Frank," Gerard said, relaxing back into the couch. "Whatever evil's in your home is still there, because you don't want to go back. If you go now, how will I ever find you again?" Frank tried to speak, but Gerard shut him up.

"I've kidnapped you, Frank, and I don't want to force you to go home if it makes you unhappy," Gerard said, motioning for Frank to sit on the mattress. "So stay here and sit." Frank refused.

"What if you being convicted of kidnap makes me unhappy?" Frank tried, gripping his bag. Gerard got up, coming close to Frank and he held his ground.

"You should've thought about that before you asked me to take you," Gerard snootily told him, taking Frank's bag from him again. Truth was, he should've done the same. "Whether you like it or not, you're under my supervision, and I say to sit on the mattress, or…at least stay here," he said, his composure faltering.

"What if I was able to escape from the evil hands of my aggressor?" Frank smugly asked, and Gerard wasn't sure if that was an attempt to attack him, but if it was, it worked.

"Don't tempt me, Frankie," Gerard menacingly warned him, and the smug look on Frank's face disappeared. Gerard smiled at himself once he realized that he was actually in control. Maybe this was going to be easier than he thought. "That's not gonna happen while I'm watching you, so don't even think about it," he continued, watching Frank's demeanor change. "So…yeah."

Frank was shocked at Gerard's reaction to the situation. He looked like he was about to hit Frank, or restrain him from leaving. The look in his eyes showed Frank that Gerard was capable of going crazy, or perhaps he already was. Frank saw Gerard's biceps flex, and he flinched. Gerard could probably beat him up badly if he wanted. There was still a fire in Gerard's eyes, and he wasn't able to tell if that was from anger or if it was a glimpse of his determination.

Yet, he still really liked Gerard. As stupid as it seemed, he didn't mind Gerard's change of attitude. That didn't deter him from his crush, or whatever the hell it was. No matter how much Gerard's composition was scaring him right now, he knew Gerard was doing it in Frank's best interest, as much as Frank didn't really want Gerard to. He was risking the rest of his reputation in society for Frank's safety and well being, and he didn't even know what the hell was going on. Frank gave a gulp when he thought about what Gerard might have possibly done if he knew about Pete.

But Pete was erased from his mind as Gerard reached out and grabbed Frank's shoulder, jolting him back to what was happening now. Instead of hitting him, Gerard was caressing him, his hand leaving his shoulder and rubbing his arms. Gerard cradled him, urging Frank to be closer. Frank, surprisingly, relaxed in his grasp as he leaned his head to the side, trying to figure out Gerard's intentions. That was hard for him to do, though, seeing that Gerard didn't really know what he was doing himself. He had seen how much he had shocked Frank, and he wanted to make up for it and assure Frank he meant to harm. He didn't want Frank to be scared of him, or else Frank would run away from him, too.

His face was nearing Frank's with every passing second, and he brought his hand to caress Frank's cheek. Frank's heartbeat sped up, and Gerard kept the mesmerizing gaze with his eyes, Frank falling into the spell. He closed his eyes and pressed himself against Gerard, waiting to feel Gerard's luscious lips on his.

To both of their dismay, Gerard found an ounce of self-control and slowly pulled away, avoiding eye contact with an aching Frank. If anything, he had hurt Frank more, he was sure of it. Frank opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times, surprised at how quickly it had started and ended. Gerard was back in his original position holding Frank on his shoulder. But Gerard's expression had changed, as did Frank's. Gerard was no longer looking at Frank with confidence, but with a yearning. Frank's expression changed from that of confused, to being hurt.

"I fucking wish I was younger," Gerard muttered as he stared into Frank's eyes, before turning away to pack Frank's things along with his. Frank blinked back the tears that were about to show, and he started fixing the mattress up, with nothing else to do. He sat on it after, upset at Gerard for not screwing over his age. It didn't matter to him. Why couldn't he see that? Instead, he was fighting the urge, trying to avoid Frank by staying on the other end of the room. One day, Gerard was going to have to give in, like he almost did today. And the next time Frank was presented with the chance and Gerard got self-control again, he would just have to make the first move.

Mikey entered the room, and he knew there was a change in the atmosphere. Frank was completely isolated and alone on the mattress, angrily glaring at Gerard. Gerard was on the opposite side of the room, tending to the bags and refusing to look back at Frank. He seemed to have a mix of emotions going on within him, but the final product his facial expression reflected was somber.

Mikey concluded that Gerard must've told Frank that he was sending him back home, even though Gerard didn't want to. He walked over to where Gerard was and placed his dirty clothes in the laundry bag. "Hey," he said to Gerard.

"Hey." Gerard continued to work on the clothes, and he dropped the backpack he filled up with clothing on the floor. He robotically picked up another backpack and began to stuff it.

"I'm gonna go to work now," Mikey told his distracted brother, and Gerard nonchalantly nodded, preoccupied with the packing. "Look," Mikey continued. He held his brother's shoulder. "I know you hate the situation right now, but it'll pay off in the end, okay?" He waited to see Gerard's response, but Gerard just nodded.

If Mikey had paid more attention, he would've noticed that the clothes Gerard was now stuffing into the backpack were Gerard's own, and not Frank's.

Mikey gave a sigh as he turned to leave, and he saw that Frank had set up the mattress. Frank caught Mikey staring at him, and he gave Mikey a smile. "I fixed up the bed," he softly said, still sort of mad from what recently happened.

"It's not a bed," Mikey chuckled. "It's a shitty mattress on the floor."

"Well, it was comfortable," Frank jokingly argued, regaining his youthful composure. "It made a nice bed."

"Sure," Mikey playfully muttered, taking a good look at Frank. He could see why Gerard might've fallen for him. He was opposite from Gerard in many ways. There were the physical attributes, like Frank's height and the clothes they wore. Then there were the other characteristics, like Frank's composure, the innocence around him, and his modesty. He was nothing at all as snooty as Mikey had imagined, and he was sure Frank was nothing Gerard had expected either. He was almost sorry that he was making Gerard send Frank back.

"I wanted to thank you and Gerard for letting me stay last night—'' Frank humbly started.

"No problem, Frank," Mikey said, interrupting him and patting him on the back. "It was pretty funny last night, so it's all good." Mikey chuckled and Frank grinned, looking back at Gerard and catching him blush. Gerard quickly turned his head when he realized Frank was grinning at him.

"Well, I've got to go," Mikey said, looking back at Gerard one more time. "So, I'll see you tonight, okay?" Gerard looked back at Mikey and gave Mikey a small grin.

"Okay," Gerard said, carrying the backpacks on his back and on both hands. "I'm just gonna…" he lifted the bags and Mikey nodded understandingly.

After shutting the door, Gerard immediately turned to Frank, handing him a backpack. Frank snuck a glance at Gerard to see that he was looking at him now, and Frank held his gaze, holding on to the backpack. Gerard dropped the bags he had on the floor next to Frank and Frank stood there and waited as Gerard went back to the windows, watching and waiting for Mikey to disappear from sight. Gerard waved to Mikey when Mikey noticed him staring out the window. It was the least he could do, because he wasn't coming home tonight, like he had led his younger brother to believe.

Gerard licked his lips once he saw Mikey turn the corner and started advancing towards Frank, who tightly gripped his backpack. Gerard picked up his two bags that lay before Frank, and looked into Frank's apprehensive eyes.

"Let's go Frankie," he demanded, opening the door.


	15. A Turn For The Better

**A Turn For The Better**

Pete knocked on Frank's door, anxiously holding a brown paper bag filled with small bottles of lube. He was gonna change things up a bit, and using lube would be a new experience, being that he never did use lube with Frank, liking the brutality of it all. He was sort of hoping that using the lube would bring Frank back to him, because the hopelessness he had seen in Frank's eyes had scared him. He hadn't ever seen Frank like that, and it was still bugging him.

After knocking a couple of times he tried to open the door, which took him a while because it was locked. But once he opened it, he stepped inside to find what looked like a sleeping body wrapped in bed. He couldn't blame him. Frank had been so out of it yesterday. But now, it was time for him to wake up.

"Frank, wake up," Pete demanded, grinning. He held up the bag full of the lube. "We can finally do it right," he continued, and to his annoyance, Frank kept on sleeping. He didn't move or flinch at all, so Pete jokingly pulled off the sheets…

…to find that Frank was never really there.

Pete's smile wiped right off his face as he frantically looked around. Frank couldn't have, although it shouldn't have come as a surprise to him if Frank ran away. Frank had mentioned leaving a couple of times, but Pete never thought he would go through with it. Maybe he shouldn't have done what he did yesterday to that Gerard guy. Frank seemed pretty angry and hurt…

Shoving the brown bag down Frank's dresser, Pete made his way down the stairs into his girlfriend's office, angrily replaying what he did yesterday. Frank was actually growing balls, facing up to him like that. He couldn't have that happen. He had invested his time into Frank, and he expected it to pay off.

He opened his cell phone, trying to see if maybe Frank had left him some smart-ass remark, but he opened it to see he had received another text from someone else. Arthur.

Today wasn't so good…could I come by later? it read, and Pete cursed. He had gotten this yesterday, when he was busy fucking Frank. Arthur was one of his best 'customers,' shall he say. Arthur came by on and off for a good sum of money, usually around $200 to $500. He was poor, but sexy as hell. Of course, no one knew about this but Tina, and she didn't mind at all. Just a couple days ago, he came by and Pete gave him $200.

Ever since Pete had laid eyes on Frank, he knew he'd make good for the business. He was sure he would get a lot of hits and money off of him, which was the only reason why Tina agreed to using Frank as well. He was sort of hoping that the next time Arthur came, he would offer him a permanent job, and introduce him to Frank, hopefully his soon-to-be co-worker. But now, Frank had gone and run away.

Pete angrily made his way downstairs in search of Tina, who he found yapping away on the phone downstairs. If she had been doing her damn job, Frank wouldn't have been able to leave in the first place. Frank was the one thing that he had invested so much into, teaching him how to become what Pete wanted, another source of money. And Frank was becoming a great learner, too, until that Gerard guy stepped into the picture.

"Yeah, Rosie," Tina said, nodding at Pete to let him know she acknowledged him. "Yeah…I know, right?" Pete threw her a superficial smile and Tina smiled back. Her smile faded, though, when Pete snatched the phone from her and cut off her conversation.

"Hey Rose…yeah, yeah. Everything's fine," he said, gripping the phone and playing with the wire. "Hm…yeah, well, I just wanted to tell you that Tina's about to get her ass fucked, so don't call her back anytime soon…yeah, you too," he told her, ending the conversation. He placed the phone on the desk carefully, and fear seized Tina's throat. Her boyfriend, apparently, was very unhappy with her. But what had she done?

"Where's Frank?" Pete calmly asked her, playing with the pens and pencils inside the mug. Was that it? Maybe it was Frank that he was upset with, and not her.

"Um, he's upstairs," she said. "Why?" She began to nervously play with her fingers as Pete creepily smiled at her, walking over to behind her desk and kissing her cheek. He started menacingly laughing at her, running his hands through her hair.

She, herself, already knew she was screwed. "P-Pete?" she asked. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything," he laughed, and bent down to whisper in her ear, "And that's why we're here."

"P-Pete? Please," she urged him, trying to get out of his grasp.

"Don't even fucking tell me that," Pete snapped, holding her tighter and lifting her off of her chair. She started shaking, images of last time's attack fresh in her mind. Pete knew she hated ass fucking. It left her sore for days, especially since he hated using lube. "If you were doing your job instead of talking on the phone all day, you would've noticed that Frank wasn't in his room." Tina gasped. If Frank wasn't there, she was definitely screwed.

"But what if he's just around the house somewhere?" Tina tried, gasping as she felt Pete's hands wrap themselves around her neck. Pete shook his head and laughed.

"The little muskrat has no life," Pete chuckled, getting up to lock the doors. He headed back to Tina and pulled her out of her seat. "Now get on the floor."

She whimpered, but did as she was told. There was no way she was going to try to avoid the inevitable. Tears streaked her cheeks as she laid on the hard carpeted floor.

"Undress yourself," Pete ordered, and she began to all-out cry, letting the snot fall from her nose and letting the tears fall on her shirt. Hopefully Pete would feel sorry for her. Pete got a tissue from the desk and handed it to her as she sobbed. She thanked him before she blew her nose.

"You done yet?" he annoyingly asked, taking the tissue from her as a shocked expression crossed her face. "Frank doesn't even cry like this anymore."

"That's why you and Frank do this," she angrily muttered before she stopped herself, and Pete heard every word. She quickly tried to apologize, but Pete wouldn't have it. He harshly started unbuttoning her shirt and pulled down her sweatpants.

"I don't want to hear it," he growled, crawling on top of her. She could feel his awful hard-on brush against her leg and she grimaced. Pete was going to go ahead with this and fuck her with no mercy. She thought of another escape route as his hands tangled themselves in her hair, positioning himself to enter her.

"B-But Mr. and Mrs. Iero are still sleeping—''

"That just means you'll have to be quiet then, won't it?" Pete asked. He was going to have to remind her what happens when Pete doesn't get his way…

Tina winced, biting her lips to keep herself from yelling. But that didn't stop her from her tears flowing. She had to listen to Pete. It was the smart thing to do. She should've made sure Frank was in bed before she headed out. She shouldn't have been talking on the phone like that. She knew that this would have happened if she didn't watch over Frank. Pete had invested so much time into him, and to have him missing jeopardized everything. Pete was supposed to lure Frank into the 'business,' so that they'd make money. She was involved in the plan just as much as Pete, so why hadn't she just double-checked for both of their sakes?

"Think of this the next time I ask you for Frank and he's not here," Pete cruelly told her, and Tina gave an agonizing groan as she painfully nodded at him.

* * *

"It's huge, Gerard," Frank gasped in amazement. A smile played on his lips. "I love it."

"Are you sure?" Gerard shyly asked, a blush beginning to show on his face. He gave a chuckle at how something so trivial seemed to now brighten Frank's face, capturing all his attention. "No one's said that before," he admitted, scratching his head.

"And it's about the same size it was back at the apartment," Frank continued, grinning.

His excitement grew as he ran to the bed and jumped on it, eager to be in a motel for the first time. He hadn't thought these things had existed. He'd only heard of them.

"And it's cheap," Gerard added thoughtfully.

"I told you that if there was anything you needed to pay for, I'd do it," Frank reminded him, the smile disappearing from his face.

"But you're not paying," Gerard told him, setting the bags down. "Besides, you like it here, don't you? And I can actually afford it, too."

"How are you gonna 'afford' it?" Frank asked him. "Does this mean that you're finally willing to accept the money I want to pay you?" he hopefully asked, and Gerard shook his head.

"You don't need to worry about that Frankie," Gerard told him, and Frank sighed, shaking his head. He didn't want to start another argument and get Gerard into 'hostile' mode again. But things were lightening back up since then.

After Mikey had left, Gerard had awkwardly apologized and Frank numbly nodded, following him outside. They hadn't spoken for a long time. Frank was busy following Gerard bus after bus, and Gerard was busy looking at bus schedules before he finally gave up, asking, "Do you like how this place is?" Frank gave a light shrug, and Gerard prodded him for an answer. "I mean, there's a motel and shit…we could probably stay—''

"A motel?" Frank quietly piped up, looking at Gerard in the eyes again. His eyes shone and Gerard's eyes warmed up, seeing Frank relax around him again.

"Yeah," Gerard said. "I honestly have no idea where we're going, just as long as it's far away from…yeah."

"I wanna be in a motel," Frank excitedly said, looking around. "A motel!"

So the two of them ended up getting off at the next joint the bus stopped at and exited. Gerard got out, offering to hold Frank's bags and Frank refused, eagerly jumping out of the bus and searching for a motel.

But things were cool between them now, Frank happily noted as he was playing with a pillow on the bed while Gerard placed the bags down. Gerard had gone back to calling him 'Frankie.' "You're so stubborn," Frank complained, amiably throwing the pillow at Gerard. Gerard was already up and waiting, though, so he caught it.

"It's about time you realized," Gerard grinned as he caught the pillow. He threw it on the floor and checked out the quality of the room as he unpacked the clothes.

"And messy, too," Frank added, throwing another pillow at him. This one actually hit Gerard, and Gerard laughed as he picked it up, slowly meeting Frank's gaze.

"Tsk-tsk, Frankie," he said as he bent down to pick up the two pillows that lay on the floor by his feet. With the two pillows tightly gripped in his hand, he asked, "You wanna start a war? With me?" Frank eagerly stood up to defend himself, awaiting Gerard to give him his best shot. Gerard lunged at him instead, bringing Frank down on the bed below him.

Gerard got on top of Frank and began to pummel him with the pillows. Frank shrieked and writhed underneath him, trying to escape Gerard's wrath. In the crossfire, he managed to pull a pillow away from Gerard and began grinning like an idiot.

"What?" Gerard breathlessly asked. "It's only one pillow." He hit Frank again.

"I'm gonna get you back," Frank warned him, gripping on his pillow tighter. Gerard didn't flinch, and Frank smacked him on the side of his head with his pillow, sending Gerard down on the bed. Frank climbed on top of him victoriously and giggled at Gerard's dazed composure.

"You didn't believe me," Frank laughed at him as Gerard tried to sit up. Frank held him back down.

"I didn't think something so small could hit so hard," Gerard admitted, and Frank hit him unexpectedly again.

"Care to explain what that actually means?" Frank threateningly asked, grabbing the second pillow from Gerard and leaving him defenseless. He held them both in his hands and glared at Gerard, daring him to open his mouth. Gerard, on the other hand, knew he had landed in hot water.

"I, uh…I just didn't think…"

"Were you making a joke about my height?" Frank asked, menacingly gripping the pillows. Gerard tried to abscond, but Frank held him down on the bed and let him know that there was no escape. When Gerard realized he couldn't leave, he tried to answer Frank's rhetorical question.

"Um…no?"

Frank snorted and started to strike down Gerard, and Gerard started laughing, which enticed Frank more. Gerard was quicker than Frank, so not many of the hits Frank had thrown landed on him. But it was fun, nonetheless. Frank's sudden pseudo-outrage was cute to Gerard.

"Big…things…come…in small…packages!" He repeatedly insisted with each blow. Gerard continued cracking up.

"You're so…oof…cute, Frankie," he laughed, grinning at him after another successful blow. Frank raised his arm for another strike and Gerard held Frank's wrist to stop him from doing anything, and Gerard succeeded. Frank tried to free himself but Gerard held him firmly, wrestling with Frank until Frank was beneath him, wriggling to be free. After a long while of Frank's unfruitful attempts, he gave in, letting Gerard be victorious.

"I win, Frankie," Gerard said, ruffling Frank's hair as he compellingly got off of Frank. Frank gave him the cutest pout ever, but it disappeared when Gerard quickly pecked him with a kiss on the cheek.


	16. Elmo's World

**Elmo's World**

"I'm bored, Gerard," Frank complained, banging his head on the mattress repeatedly as Gerard chuckled.

"You've got a whole range of channels to choose from," he laughed, distractedly scribbling more into his pad. Frank tried to listen to Gerard, flipping to another channel, but the only thing he could find to watch was Elmo's World, and the show was over anyway.

"That's Elmo's World!" Elmo screeched, and Frank sighed, dropping his head on the mattress one final time. He tossed the remote for effect, and it hit the bedpost, causing Gerard to look up from whatever he was scribbling to lightly chuckle at Frank. But Frank was honestly bored. Gerard had retreated to the chair after the pillow fight, which was three hours ago. He had isolated himself at the desk with his pad, doing God-knows-what, glimpsing at Frank every couple of seconds. Frank had pretended he didn't notice, but he did, and it was kind of bothering him. Maybe it was just the fact that Gerard had chosen to be so far away from him that bothered Frank so much. Why couldn't he do his mindless doodling closer to him?

Frank eventually brought his head up form the mattress and Gerard was still holding in his laugh, snorting at Frank instead. "What?" Frank unfocusedly asked. God, he was so bored.

"A seventeen year old is watching 'Elmo's World,'" Gerard mused aloud, making fun of Frank's state. "I thought you didn't want to be a kid," he continued.

"Yeah, well the 'shut up and watch T.V.' attitude kinda gives me no choice," Frank replied jokingly, looking back at the 'Sesame Street' show end. Today, according to the bottom of the screen with the marquee, it was a Sesame marathon. Ten hours of it.

"Join us next week when Dorothy and I learn about colors!" Elmo said excitedly, and Frank groaned, begging Gerard to do something.

"Okay, okay," Gerard laughed, putting his pad away. He couldn't have his captive die of boredom. Where was the fun in that? "How about I call for Chinese take-out?"

"I'm actually not that hungry—'' Frank started, but Gerard brushed him off.

"Take-out it is!" he happily exclaimed, getting a hold of the phone in the room and making a call. "What do you want?" he asked as the line connected.

"Veg Lo Mein?" Frank asked, and Gerard nodded.

"What about a drink?" Gerard asked, asking the lady on the other end to wait for a moment.

"Um…a coke maybe?" Frank shrugged. "Anything's good." Gerard gave him another nod and he told the lady.

"Uh-huh…yeah, um….I'll pay at the door, so…yeah, just upstairs, room 16…thanks," he said before hanging up. Gerard threw him a smile and Frank returned it, going back to watch Sesame Street again.

"So, uh…Frankie," he asked, crossing his legs and putting his drawing pad away. He could always draw Frank later. Besides, now Frank was fully aware of him, and there was no way he could draw anything without being conspicuous. Frank gave him a 'what's up' look, lowering Elmo's voice down with the remote. "How's life?' he asked, trying to start a regular conversation. He shyly started playing with his fingers, avoiding Frank's gaze.

That wouldn't have been too hard though, because Frank was avoiding his gaze as well. Did Gerard want the honest-to-god truth? "I'm being held hostage by the most gorgeous guy on this planet. He can do anything he fucking wants to do to me, but he won't. I hate life right now!" He wanted to shout and yell that to Gerard, but of course he gave him a nonchalant answer of, "Okay."

"Just 'okay'?" Gerard asked.

"Yeah," Frank admitted. "But I can't complain. Life used to suck 24 hours ago," he said, smiling briefly at him. He pretended to be busy, intently watching Sesame's Street once more, even though the volume had been lowered significantly. Gerard shifted his attention to the T.V. as well, touched by Frank's comment. An awkward silence hung in the air as the both of them pretended to be enticed by the little kid show. Frank eventually shut the T.V. off and slowly faced Gerard, who gave a shrug. Frank rolled on the bed out of boredom and Gerard giggled at his childlike composure, although the grin faded once a text message from him was received. He could feel the damning plastic vibrate through his jean pockets and his heart got heavy.

Shit. He had forgotten all about Pete. Surely, if no one cared about him he was sure Pete would notice his absence. He had, after all, called Pete earlier and told him to expect him sometime soon. His hands fumbled as they tried to reach his back pocket, revealing the cell phone. He opened his messages to see, You comin today?.

"How's life?" Frank continued, hugging a pillow this time. He was in a totally different position than he was a few seconds ago. It seemed like a totally painful position to be in, but Frank seemed comfortable with it.

"Um, me?" Gerard asked, shutting his phone and shrugging. "I guess you could say 'troubling,'" he admitted to Frank, his mind drifting back to what he just received. Frank misunderstood, and a smug, 'I told you so' look appeared on his face. Gerard quickly corrected himself.

"But it's a good thing," he continued, mocking Frank. "Because my life used to suck ass 24 hours ago."

Frank immediately sat up, gripping the pillow he was holding so tenderly before. "Are you mocking me?" he asked, spinning the pillow around threateningly. Gerard merely laughed at Frank's futile attempt to regain his dignity, and soon, Frank chuckled, too.

"I could probably pin you under me if I tried," Frank told him, relaxing back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. Gerard scoffed.

"Right," he said, purposely trying to be obnoxious as he rolled his eyes. They both laughed afterwards, and Gerard resumed drawing once Frank seemed to be deep in thought. In reality, Frank was so busy thinking of ways he could possibly succeed in getting Gerard pinned beneath him. One method crossed his mind and he smiled, grinning like an idiot. Gerard caught him, and he smiled too. Frank's smile was contagious, and soon, Gerard was grinning as he drew Frank over again.

"What's so funny?" Gerard asked him as he drew the outline of Frank's body.

If he really wanted to know…Frank shook his head. If he ever said anything, Gerard wouldn't look at him the same anymore. He didn't want to lose that. But he couldn't help thinking about a hot, sweaty and sexy-ass Gerard beneath him…

Frank gave a chuckle and dreamily smiled to himself before answering to Gerard, "Nothing."


	17. Little Kid

**Little Kid**

The bell rang a few minutes later and Frank gave a small gasp at the sound, having been interrupted by his previous thoughts. Gerard grinned at him, setting his pad down on the table. "Food's here," he said, digging through his bag and looking for his wallet. Frank quickly got up, seeing that Gerard was having a hard time to find some spare cash, and looked through his things to find some money. He did, in a matter of seconds, and rushed to the door before Gerard could stop him.

"Is this room 16?" The man asked, holding the take-out food in his arm. "For you?"

"Yeah," Frank said, nodding at him and taking the food. He opened it to see the lo-mein Gerard had ordered, along with a coke. But there was nothing else. Gerard, Frank noticed, hadn't ordered something for himself…

While the realization was registering in Frank's mind, the deliveryman stood there, becoming annoyed. Frank stood there as well, thinking if he could possibly ask the man for another order when the man monotonously said, "Eighteen-seventy two, please."

"Eighteen seventy-two?" Gerard incredulously asked, stopping the search for his money from inside the room. "For one fucking order? Are you kidding me?" Frank looked back to see his own disbelief mirrored in Gerard's eyes, however Gerard's was more adamant.

"First off, delivery is eight dollars," the man said, grabbing the food back from Frank.

"We're right upstairs," Frank said. "That doesn't make sense. I would get it if you had to travel a mile or even a couple blocks. But we're up the stairs."

"I'm not the one who called for delivery," the man snobbishly replied. "Delivery is delivery, and eight dollars is eight dollars." Frank rolled his eyes and gave an annoyed sigh as he gave in and handed the man the eighteen dollars and seventy-two cents. Gerard argued with Frank to leave it alone and let him pay, but Frank went ahead anyway, grabbing the food back from the man.

The bald headed middle-aged man smirked as he counted the money and turned to leave, muttering, "If you were 'right up the stairs' why couldn't you just climb down them and pick it up for yourself?" Frank then glared at him and the man decided that it was over, and he should, at best, keep quiet. The kid whom he had just delivered to looked like he was capable of murder, and he didn't want to become one of those delivery-boys that ended up dead for some stupid reason as not minding their own business. He quickly thanked Frank and made his way down the stairs, eager to get out of Frank's view.

Satisfied that his glare worked on the stranger, Frank closed the door to meet Gerard's discontented face. "I should've paid for that," Gerard said, holding the money in his hands. "Even if it was stupid, I called for delivery and—''

"And you didn't order something for yourself," Frank interrupted. "Why was that?"

"Me?" Gerard asked. "Of course not. I'm not hungry right now."

"So…that's it?" Frank asked, setting the food down on the table. "I say I'm not hungry, and you go on a…I don't know, a food spree. You tell me you're not hungry…and I just stop?"

"Pretty much," Gerard chuckled, advancing towards the table and taking a peek inside the bag. "Well…the lo-mein's kinda huge. I guess that's where the rest of the ten dollars came in."

"And it's big enough for the both of us," Frank said, sitting on one end of the table. Gerard sat down on the other end, shaking his head.

"No, it isn't," he insisted. "I bought it…well, I meant to buy it for you, so you eat it."

"But, in all honesty and actuality, I bought it, Gerard," Frank said, a smile playing on his lips. "I bought it, and I want you to eat it with me. So ha!"

"But Frank—''

"Think about it," Frank said, opening it and pulling out two forks. "If you don't eat it, it'll go to waste. Why should it, when there's someone here willing to get rid of it?" Gerard shrugged, not wanting to answer him. Frank kept insisting, handing Gerard one of the forks to eat with him. He opened the box and stuck his fork inside the lo-mein, waiting for Gerard to take a bite. Instead, Gerard took the soda and Frank chuckled.

"Soda?" he teased. "That's it?" he took a bite of the lo-mein and Gerard took a sip of the soda, nodding at Frank. Frank chuckled, shaking his head at Gerard's defiance, and wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. Gerard's eyes gazed over to the food in front of Frank and his stomach growled. It was four o'clock, and Gerard hadn't eaten anything. He was starving, but he didn't want to share with Frank. Frank was supposed to be fed first. Then, if there was anything left over, he would eat it. It wasn't like he wouldn't survive without lunch for one day, he reasoned. But the vegetable lo-mein was looking pretty good right now. He eventually lifted his gaze from Frank's food and met Frank's eyes gazing at him. Gerard cleared his throat as he re-composed his posture, pretending to pay fastidious attention to the food.

"How long have you been vegan?" he asked Frank, motioning over to the lo-mein. Frank took another small bite before answering Gerard.

"Ever since I was a small kid," Frank happily announced, and Gerard smiled at his response and his word choice of 'small.' Frank caught himself and sarcastically laughed, "Ha, ha, ha. Very funny."

"Well," Gerard said, chuckling again. "I'll, uh…just have to keep that in mind." He took another sip of the soda and set it on the table. Frank took another bite of the noodles (they were delicious) and offered some to Gerard again. Gerard gave it a hungry look and declined the offer, to Frank's dismay.

Frank pushed it in his face. "You didn't order anything for yourself," he complained, and Gerard shrugged, taking another sip of the soda and wishing it would fill his stomach. After he took another gulp, he tried to assure Frank that he wasn't hungry. Frank grabbed the soda from Gerard's hands.

"Okay, then," Frank said, drinking the soda as well. "I have your soda. Are you sure you wouldn't like to trade with me?" Gerard fumbled with his hands, avoiding the gaze and Frank's food, for he was sure that if he looked in either direction, he would crumble.

"Who are you kidding?" Frank chuckled, laughing at Gerard's feeble attempts to stay firm. "Eat it," Frank demanded, shoving the plate in front of Gerard, and Gerard sighed.

"I don't want to end up eating it all," he told Frank, and Frank shrugged.

"I told you already that I wasn't hungry," he said, taking another sip of the soda as he urged Gerard to eat. Gerard finally gave in, taking his fork and taking a small piece of the food.

"I'm just gonna take a small bite," he assured Frank, who grinned at him.

"It doesn't matter to me," Frank said, taking a noodle.

After his first bite, Gerard commented, "This isn't too bad."

"It's okay," Frank agreed. "I can imagine the food being expensive for its taste, but for a five second delivery?" Frank scoffed and rolled his eyes, laughing. "It's okay, though. Because the sad thing about it is that guy needs the money more than I do, or more than I ever will." His tone faded and became somber, and he played with the napkin on the table hoping that he hadn't offended Gerard. He hadn't meant to. It was only at the last moment that he realized Gerard could have fit into that mold.

But Gerard didn't notice; he was too busy stuffing his face out. "Maybe it's because it's veggie lo-mein," he suggested after taking another bite. Gerard was lying through his teeth when he told Frank he wasn't hungry, wasn't he? Note to self, Frank thought as Gerard munched on his last bite, Never take Gerard's "No"'s as serious answers.

"Well, at least you can eat this knowing that none of the poor little animals were slaughtered for your hunger," Frank happily chimed in. Frank's statement made Gerard chuckle.

"So where did you learn the truth about the 'poor little animals'?" Gerard asked, quoting Frank as he set the food back on the table. There was still about a good half of the meal left. Frank handed Gerard the soda as he answered his question.

"School," he boringly replied.

"School," Gerard repeated, nodding. "Normal enough."

"Eh," Frank grumbled, taking a bit of the lo-mein himself. He sat there afterwards, watching Gerard drink the soda.

"So…school," Gerard said after he set the soda down. Frank nodded at him, urging him to go on. "How was it? I mean, how is it? I forgot you still go to school."

Frank shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "I dunno. I'm alive, aren't I?" he joked, and Gerard chuckled. Trying to avoid the topic of his pathetic school and social life, he asked Gerard, "How about you? How was it for you, going to school? Did you like it?"

"It was alright," Gerard said, playing with the food. He, too, wanted to avoid the topic. He was more interested in Frank.

But Frank kept pushing and prodding. "I bet you were extremely popular," Frank said, grinning and patting him on the back. Gerard laughed, shaking his head.

"I wasn't popular in the sense that I think you're thinking about," Gerard said. "But people knew me as the kid who spent hours alone either reading a comic or trying to create my own." He looked into Frank's huge eyes, which were absorbing everything Gerard was saying. "I was a scrawny little gothic kid, into the vampire and zombie shit. Honestly, I still am," he laughed, and Frank chuckled.

"Aren't they awesome?" Frank asked, as Gerard nodded. "I've read a few comics before," he continued, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to come up with names.

"You got a favorite?" Gerard asked, taking a sip of the soda.

"I, uh…I don't know or remember the names of comics per say, but I've got a favorite super-hero if that counts for anything," Frank admitted, scratching his head.

"Oh, really?" Gerard asked excitedly. "Tell me. I bet I know who it is." He sat up in his chair, getting ready for Frank's answer, and Frank chuckled.

"It'd actually be pretty sad if you didn't know who he was," Frank told him, and Gerard gently shoved him, making Frank laugh more.

"Who is it?" Gerard asked him, and Frank answered when his laughing subsided.

"Batman."

"Batman?" Gerard asked.

"Yeah, Batman," Frank said. "He's the most realistic super-hero out there. There's none of that false hope."

"No false hope, huh?" Gerard joked, teasing Frank. "So people do come out dressed as bats and save the world!"

"Very funny," Frank said, smiling nonetheless. "But that's the point. He doesn't save the world. He's only human, and in my book, you don't need to be able to save the whole world in order to be considered a hero. There's just so much the poor man could do, owning his own industry and all, being a multi-millionaire big shot. But he wastes his time to fix all that he humanely can. He isn't out there like superman, saving the world from outer limits and shit. He's here, in his city, trying to fix the mess-ups that society has created, the crooks and the bandits and such.

"There are those that have turned uber evil because of some chemical mutation or some sort of accident. Like Joker. Then again, there are those that have turned evil because of their unbalanced emotions. For Harley Quinn, it's her love of Joker that turns her evil. And it isn't unheard of. Stuff happens like this in everyday life. And all it takes," Frank said, looking out the window, "is one man to save them. Or at least knock the shit outta them, y'know? You don't need some superhero dude. Shit, Superman isn't even human. He's an alien. That's pretty sad when you depend on the other species taking care of your planet…" Frank stopped talking and continued to gaze out the window, looking at the darkening sky. It looked like it was about to rain soon.

"So, I see you know your superman," Gerard said, surprised at how deep Frank had gotten into it. He seemed to get lost in his explanation, his tone becoming sadder and more depressing by the second. To Gerard's relief, Frank gave a chuckle.

"Damn right I do," he muttered, turning and smiling at Gerard.

"So, I guess it's safe to say that's what you're known for in school?" Gerard guessed, and Frank mumbled, taking a sip of the soda.

"Not really," he said, trying to shy away from the topic as thunder sounded.

Gerard wouldn't have it. "So what's your popularity mark?" he joked, prodding Frank for an answer. Frank shrugged before he replied, though.

"I'm the kid who gets beat up in school," he admitted, looking back out the window.

"You get beat up?" Gerard empathetically asked, and Frank shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about it.

"It's okay, though," Frank assured Gerard, laughing. "Don't worry about it. I'll find a way out. There was one time I told the kids that my dad was in the mafia, and if I got beat up again, they were going to be paid a little visit." Memories of Frank childhood replayed in his head, causing him to laugh some more. Grinning at himself, he muttered, "I'm so stupid."

"The mafia?" Gerard asked. "Are you Italian?"

"Yeah," Frank said, nodding. "And they all knew my dad was some big-shot, but they didn't know what for...neither did I." Rain started to lightly drizzle on the motel windows, and Frank got up to close them. Gerard rose as well, helping Frank before the two of them retreated to the bed. Gerard brought on some of the left over food and drink, placing them on the night-stand.

"What grade was this in?" Gerard asked, and Frank squinted his eyes, trying to remember his elementary days.

"I don't remember, but it was about the same time I learned about the vicious animal slaughtering and became vegan," he distantly said, scratching his chin.

"You make me sound like a murderer," Gerard chuckled, and Frank smiled.

"Good," he said, relaxing in his seat. Frank's eyes shifted back over to the closed window, the raindrops pounding against the glass windows.

"So what about those kids?" Gerard asked, getting back to the topic. "Did they lay off you?"

"Oh yeah," Frank smiled. "In a heartbeat."

"So, it ended?" Gerard questioned, and Frank scoffed.

"No way," he said. He rose from his seat on the bed, eagerly telling Gerard the rest of his horrible experiences as some amazing story. "They grew up and got a little smarter. They realized the mafia thing was all a lie, in about 8th grade. So what they decided to do was shove me in my locker instead when we started 9th grade." There was a horrified expression on Gerard's face, but Frank kept laughing at himself.

"So...is it safe to say it's over now?" Gerard asked, and Frank nodded.

"Only now, they've decided to have a field day,'" Frank said. "Now, I'm known as the gay social outcast, so they get real fancy and decide to combine the two. Beating me up isn't enough. Oh, no. Stuffing me into my fucking locker where I can't fucking breathe isn't enough for them either." Frank's anger got the best of him at that moment when he recalled the time that he had actually passed out in a locker, with his bronchitis flaring up and all. It was no wonder he ran straight into Pete's arms like he had. He was in such bad shape.

Frank avoided Gerard's sympathetic gaze, because he knew that if he got lost in their power, he would cry. He would spill everything out to Gerard right there and then. He couldn't risk telling Gerard about Pete. He needed Gerard to like him first. What if Gerard found out that Frank had actually already had sex? Would he think of him as impure? How would Gerard react to the Pete scenarios? He couldn't risk looking into Gerard's eyes right now. He had already said too much.

"Frank—"

"I'm fine Gerard," Frank lied, still looking out the window. He eventually looked at Gerard and repeated, "I'm fine," sterner this time. "I'm alive, like I mentioned before." Gerard gave Frank a questioning look before he resigned and took the last sip of the soda. Frank stared at the food placed in the center of the night stand and he took a bite.

"When...when did you come out?" Gerard quietly asked him.

"I...I haven't really," Frank told him, swallowing the food. "Kids at school kinda knew already. I guess they could tell."

"And your parents?" Gerard asked. Frank shook his head.

"They're not interested. They've never been. Nothing new there," he reminded Gerard. Then, oddly enough, a smile appeared on Frank's face.

"What?" Gerard asked, beginning to smile as well. God, that kid had a beautiful smile...

"You're actually the only person I've told," Frank said to him, finishing the lo-mein. "You care," he continued.

"Of course I do," Gerard said. "Which is why I'm not sending you home until you feel better." He grabbed Frank's hand and rubbed it with his own, thankful to be there for him.

"The only friends I've had have been fake," Frank said, tears coming to his eyes. He had already told himself not to cry, but if he ended up doing it, then so be it. He wasn't going to try to hide it from Gerard this time. "They've only wanted to be associated with me because of money. Nothing else. The same goes for my parents. The only time they've been with me is to talk about the business. If not, then they aren't there. And that's where the pathetic baby-sitters come in, pretending to give a damn for the money they want. But you...you don't do that.

"You, out of all people, actually care," Frank went on, mumbling, "and Pete had to go ahead and fucking screw everything up." The tears streamed down Frank's face as Gerard neared him to be of comfort. Frank started his apology, but Gerard's mind was still on the last sentence Frank had mumbled. He told himself that he couldn't be paranoid, now. There were many little boys named Pete. Hell, even some girls could be named Pete. Just because he knew of one Pete that was a bad seed, didn't mean that the rest of the Petes in the world were.

"If I could take it all back, I would," Frank continued, sobbing into Gerard's chest. "I've done nothing but mess up. And then comes the only person who actually cared, and I'm the reason why he has no job. I want to give you the money you deserve, the money you earned, the money you need, but the sad thing is that you won't take it from me. I want to make you happy, because my absence from that prison has made me extremely happy. But I don't know how to make you happy. I don't know what to give you, and I don't know what you want..."

"Shh," Gerard cooed to him, rubbing his back and kissing his cheek. "Don't worry about me, Frankie. I'm not giving you back any time soon, okay? Don't cry..."

Frank was torn apart inside. Frank was probably more of an adult than he was a little kid, dealing with all his inner demons and outer ones from school on his own. No one was there for him. Maybe that Pete guy was. He seemed like a friend of Frank's, Gerard thought. But he wasn't sure what it was that Pete had "screwed up." Frank kept sobbing, mumbling into Gerard's shirt, "I'm sorry. I don't know what to give you, or what to do to thank you. I can't think of a way to make you happy, but I swear, Gerard, when I think of it, I'll go all out, 100% okay?"

"Frank, don't worry," Gerard emphasized again, kissing his forehead now. "I'm already happy, trust me." Frank stayed in Gerard's embrace, his sobbing subsiding as Gerard lulled him to sleep.

Eventually, Frank fell asleep, leaving Gerard alone with his thoughts. Frank looked like he was at peace in his sleep. Never would Gerard have imagined anything Frank had told him. He had it easy, he realized, comparing his life to Frank's. He never had to go through that. He was well liked in school, and being gay wasn't a problem because he had never said anything.

Frank gave a sad sigh in his sleep, and Gerard thought about his last few jumble of words about being sorry and wanting to make Gerard happy as a payment of some sort for actually giving a shit about him. Gerard tucked Frank inside the bed, lying by him and locking him in his embrace still. Watching Frank take his steady breaths, Gerard was lulled to sleep as well, resting his head on Frank's chest and hearing the rhythmic beat of Frank's heart.

As Gerard's eyelids got heavy, one thought kept repeating in his head. Frank had already thanked him more than he could ever imagine. Didn't Frank already know that his presence here was beyond enough?


	18. Clicking The Light

**Clicking The Light**

{A Month Later}

Pete gave an angry yell as he threw his cell phone against the wall, causing Mario (one of his associates) to yelp. This was his tenth try this month for Arthur, and he wasn't answering.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Mario asked. Aware of his boss's foul mood, he brought out a cigarette and offered one to him. Pete quickly took one, and Mario continued with the questions. "Girlfriend dump you?" he tried, and Pete snorted.

"Let's get serious here," Pete told him, making his way to the wall to inspect the damage he had done. He couldn't help but chuckle at Mario's suggestion, though. Tina dumping him? As if that would ever happen.

"So…is it about work?" Mario asked as he lit his cigarette. He came over to Pete, lighting his cigarette as well.

Pete thanked him before returning his gaze back to the dented wall. Inspecting his scratched cell phone, he muttered, "No shit, Sherlock." He tried to rub it off, but of course, that went nowhere, and he eventually returned his attention to Mario, getting straight to the point.

"You know Iero? Remember him?" Pete asked, hoping for the name to register.

"Is he, the, uh…the kid you…brought to a party before…? I think? Wasn't it?" Mario asked, taking a drag. Pete nodded at him, recalling that time. Frank had been seriously drunk that night, and Pete took total advantage of him. He liked a drunk and depressed Frank. When he was drunk and depressed, he was desperate and willing. And when Frank got desperate and willing, Pete got the 'bonus.'

Frank had just gotten beat up at school again: Nothing new there. (Although, Pete couldn't really understand why any of the guys would beat up such a pretty boy.) Anyway, that helped Pete out with his case. Frank came to him broken and defeated, and it was his job to fix him up. Gradually and eventually, he was certain that he implanted the idea to Frank that the sex they were having and the way he treated him was a sign of how much Pete loved him and cared for him, and boy did Frank buy it. He bought the whole shit load of it.

After he got beaten up he came home depressed and Pete shared his drink with him, making sure to pour Frank a separate glass. The Iero's never found out about Frank's bad habits. Frank was a pretty sneaky kid. He got all the cups and drinks needed. There were even times when he would go downstairs in the storage room to share the booze with Pete, who had 'deserved it for being there for him.'

Frank got his glass and Pete poured some in there for him. Frank quickly drank his small portion away. He wasn't supposed to be drinking, and he knew that. But, Frank also knew that he wasn't supposed to have the tattoos and piercings he had on him. And he also knew that he wasn't supposed to be having sex with a twenty-four year old either but that, luckily, didn't seem to matter to him. According to Frank, no one cared about him anyway, so why should he keep people in mind when he did these things? It was a philosophy that Pete was quick to agree with.

Anyway, Frank had gone to the bathroom to check out his face from the beating, though there were no marks. Pete figured his classmates were getting smarter. Maybe the next time he and Frank messed with each other he would find the new bruise. Either that, or they were stuffing Frank in his locker again.

Speaking of the next time the two of them would mess around, Pete was expecting it to be soon. He had told Frank a few days in advance that he planned to send him to a party. Maybe that was why he had gone to the bathroom…

Just to be sure, Pete spiked Frank's drink adding enough pills and more booze to get Frank defenseless. If he was going to have fun tonight, he needed to make sure his guard was completely down. Frank had come back and to his amazement, found more of the drink in his cup. He smiled at Pete and thanked him before he drank it. A few minutes later, with enough small doses of the drink, Frank was in total loss of control like Pete had wanted.

Pete sent him over to the already in progress party at his 'house' and had fun that night. It had been crazy. Frank had woken up after the sex a couple hours later, and he asked where he was. Pete had smiled to himself at how well the drugs worked, and made a mental note to do things like this more often before he answered him.

"We're at a sleepover, Frank," he had told him, but Frank seemed uneasy still. It took a bit of persuasion, but Frank eventually gave in to Pete's insisting. Pete knew he would. He had already gained Frank's trust. Frank couldn't afford to not believe him. Pete was the only thing Frank invested anything into and he knew it. If he didn't have Pete around, he would have collapsed. That night was a perfect example of that, and how easily he was able to whisk Frank away. He had never experienced anything like that night before, besides the times he had been with Arthur, another one of his clients.

That was, until Frank's new babysitter came about. Stupid Gerald…Jared? Whatever. The point was that Frank was seeing the light; that there was more to 'love' than what Pete was offering. And unfortunately for Pete, this…babysitter…was offering more to Frank than he was. And he would be damned than to let Frank be taken away so easily.

Besides the screwing around, did anyone know how much he, too, had been investing in Frank? Maybe it was in a different way than Frank had been investing in him, but nevertheless, he had invested in Frank. With Frank's attitude on the world and his life, he was hoping that it would be a breeze convincing Frank to start prostituting for him. Maybe he would even convince him to join in and do something with him and Arthur. It might've been a possibility two months ago, but now there was no hope for him.

That new dude was filling Frank's head with bullshit. It wasn't pure bullshit in that it was the truth, and that there was more to life than what Pete was giving and showing Frank. But it was bullshit in the sense that it went against everything Pete had told Iero to do and to believe. And apparently the message, whatever the hell it was, was life-changing for Frank because he got the guts to run away from Pete and from his home, which was a bold move for someone like him. It was nerve-racking, watching all your hard work unfold around you.

Which was why he needed Arthur here now.

"Yeah," Pete said finally, rubbing his phone again and mentally cursing at Arthur. How could he just 'up and leave' like that?

"He's the problem?" Mario asked, playing with his lighter. Pete nodded.

"Don't worry about it, though," he said, more to himself than to Mario. "It should all unravel soon." His mind traveled to the few places Frank would ever find solace in, which wasn't many. Frank had no other place besides home. And if he wasn't home, he was with Pete. And if he wasn't with Pete, there was no one else left.

Unless…

He had it figured out! There was only one place that Frank would go. The only person he trusted besides Pete was that guy…and if he found where the guy was, he was sure he'd find Frank. A smile played on his lips as he happily looked at Mario. He couldn't believe it had taken him a fucking month to think of that!

"He'll come back," Pete assured Mario, who became confused at his new-found confidence.

"You said you really hurt him bad," Mario said, puzzled. "And you were worried as hell a few seconds ago…"

"I know where he is," Pete interrupted him, his smile turning to an evil grin (at least, in Mario's opinion). He turned his attention back to his cell phone, staring at Arthur's number. "I know that kid inside-out."


	19. Numbers Don't Lie

**Numbers Don't Lie**

"Mmm," Gerard moaned, tugging at the sheets as his heart rate sped up. He squeezed his eyes shut as the feeling overwhelmed him, and he wriggled impatiently underneath the sheets.

It was apparent to Frank that someone else was down there feeding Gerard with pleasurable acts because it showed on his face. In fact, he was sure of it, because he wasn't lying next to Gerard anymore, so that meant that someone else was. Surprisingly, Frank was standing by the door and was conspicuously in front of Gerard's view, but he didn't know why or how he got there.

That didn't seem to matter, though. Gerard gave another grunt before he shuddered from contact of some object. Frank wasn't sure what, but it wasn't his place to find out. He felt surprisingly cold. By now, he would have expected himself to freak out by this. Instead, he was nonchalant about the whole idea and he felt a bit of hopelessness again. Frank wasn't sure where this dream was going, but he was sure Pete must have reappeared. He was the only reason why he had ever felt this repressed.

As if on cue, Gerard groaned and the male figure within the sheets started chuckling, verifying Frank's prior thoughts. Pete was in there, wasn't he? Tears unexpectedly to Frank, pricked his eyes. He had felt cold and bitter before, not caring about Gerard's love life. He had thought the dream was showing him about how Gerard would 'move on' once this was all over. He would go his way, and Gerard would do so himself. His feelings he had for Gerard were supposed to die, as Gerard's towards him apparently had so well.

He had figured Gerard was there with his boyfriend or something. Well, in a way he was and, that guy was Pete. But there was now a burst of emotion coming through, and the tears were flowing non-stop. It was obvious the mood Frank had displayed was pseudo-apathy. In fact, he was so good at it that he believed it himself for a while. That was until he realized Gerard was with Pete.

Pete started raising his head from the sheets and (thankfully) his back was facing Frank, so he didn't have to see anything. But he spoke, and Gerard immediately started pleading again for Pete to continue. Pete laughed, looking back for a brief second and locking eyes with Frank before he returned his gaze to Gerard and consumed him in a kiss.

Frank came to the conclusion that he wasn't invisible. So Pete knew, and he was taking advantage of that. Either Gerard was blind or he knew too and chose to ignore Frank, the person for whom he now had no feelings towards. At this point Frank was sobbing, and he didn't give a damn whether or not he would be heard. If anything, he hoped that they would stop. But the moaning increased, and it was then that Frank heard the faint humming sound.

Frank looked around, hoping to get his mind off from what was occurring right in front of him. He wanted to leave, but his feet were frozen. He wanted to stop them, but he had no vocals. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare, but he couldn't.

Something then flashed and caught Frank's tearstained eyes. It looked like Pete was holding something in his hand, and it was on…

…and vibrating.

Pete lowered the vibrating object back into the sheets and chuckled as Gerard immediately began to moan uncontrollably.

And then, only then, was Frank able to wake up.  


* * *

Frank's eyes snapped open and he immediately tried to distance himself from Gerard as the low humming sound still echoed through his ears. Tears had streaked his face from the dream. It had happened to him before. He once had a dream he was eating a slew of skittles, and he woke up to find himself biting on his fingers. Hence, he had a dream about Gerard moving on without him, and he woke up crying.

It took a while, but the vibrating sound eventually faded out. He couldn't bring himself to rest back into Gerard's welcoming arms. Sure, they were welcoming now, but would they be in the coming future?

He could've screamed. He wanted to, but he bit his lip. He couldn't scream now. It was just a dream, and Gerard would want to know what had bothered him. There was no way he'd be able to explain. Would Gerard think him to be paranoid? He had, after all, spent about a month alone with Gerard. What more could he ask for?

Besides, Gerard made it pretty clear where he stood with Frank's idea of hooking up together. It couldn't happen and wouldn't happen until or if Frank reached 18 years, Frank concluded, because by then, Gerard's arguments wouldn't hold. Frank decided that he had to respect Gerard's wishes, as much as he disagreed. In the beginning, he hadn't really cared much about Gerard's 'wishes,' but as time went by, he found himself inadvertently regarding those wishes, and he hadn't thought much of his previous intentions again.

Until this dream, that is.

A low hum started, reminding Frank about the vibrator in his dream. Yeah, he knew he was perverted around Gerard, but why the hell did he have to think of that? Never once had a vibrator come up in any of their conversations. Pete hadn't even tried that move on him yet, either. That detail was as random as ever.

The hum got louder and soon started vibrating, catching Frank's attention. Maybe that was what caused him to think like that. It made some sense, because it came out of nowhere in the dream. Or had it? Frank couldn't remember at the moment, but he thought it was random.

Looking around, Frank found that the source of the sound was from Gerard's cell phone, which stood alone on the nightstand. He gave an annoyed sigh at himself. Was that it? Was that the reason why he had thought of the most drastic measures? Gerard's cell phone was vibrating, and that was the cause of the sound. It didn't have to mean that a vibrator had to be near-by.

Frank felt completely stupid. He should have gotten used to Gerard's cell phone ringing all the time by now. It was ringing (vibrating) more and more often. Before, Gerard had gotten a couple of calls here and there, but now it was bothersome. And according to the look on Gerard's face when he looked at the caller I.D., it was the same guy calling for the same thing.

For instance, Frank had asked him one time last week who had called him. He and Gerard were playing Scrabble, and Gerard's phone went off. He excused himself from the game and took a look at who was calling. When Frank had asked who it was, he had told him it was his boss.

Another time the two of them were watching CartoonNetwork (CN), and his phone went off again. Gerard excused himself once more, and from the look on his face, Frank could tell that it was his boss again. Gerard came back and told him it was his boss that called, and Frank told him that he didn't have to tell him anymore, and that he could tell from his facial expressions.

Over the course of their time here, Frank learned that an annoyed look from Gerard meant that it was his 'boss' calling. A happy look from Gerard verified that his brother was calling. And a 'what the fuck' look meant that he had no idea who the hell the person was. This had only happened once.

In actuality, Frank didn't think he was supposed to know about Mikey calling Gerard or Gerard calling Mikey. He only did at nighttime, and it was usually two to three hours after Frank had fallen asleep. He had caught on about a week ago, when Gerard's cell phone rang for such a long time that it woke him up. Gerard had been shaving he guessed, because he ran out the bathroom with his boxers on and his razor in his hand, trying to pick up the phone. Frank immediately shut his eyes as Gerard fumbled with the phone. Finally, he got it open.

"Hey Mikey," he said, rushing back to the bathroom and leaving Frank alone again. Frank didn't mind. In fact, he was happy that Gerard and his brother still kept in contact with each other. Frank had imagined that was what worried family members did, although he never expected that from his parents.

Frank hadn't planned on staying up that night, because he didn't want to eavesdrop on him. Whatever went on should have stayed between the two of them. But in Frank's defense, he had never told Gerard to keep the phone on 'loudspeaker.'  
"So how far have you two gone?" Frank immediately heard from the other end. Gerard hissed at Mikey.

"Shhhh. He might hear you," Gerard had said.

"I'm on the fucking phone," Mikey screamed before he burst out laughing. "You said so yourself that he's sleeping."

"Shhhh," Gerard said again, still embarrassed. "I put it on loudspeaker, Mikes."

"What the hell for?" Mikey said. "Do you want him to hear what we talk about?"

"Number one, I'm shaving."

"Oooh la la," Mikey teased, and Gerard gave a sigh before he ended up laughing himself.

"Not there, you dumb ass," Gerard chastised him. Mikey made another comment that Frank couldn't make out and Gerard laughed. "Stop being perverted. I'm your brother for Pete's sake." Frank cringed at the mention of Pete's name, but he quickly got over it with Mikey's next statement.

"Awww," Mikey cooed. "You haven't fucked him yet, have you?" he asked empathetically.

"Shut up, Mikes," Gerard warned him, and Mikey laughed.

"Alright, fine. You're shaving. We got up to there. Why the hell is it on loudspeaker?"

"Because I think it's easier," Gerard said. "I can shave and talk to you at the same time." Mikey stifled in a laugh. At least, Frank thought he had tried to. But he didn't succeed, and Gerard knew he was still stuck on the shaving topic.

"I really hope you aren't lying to me and shaving your balls or something while you're talking to me," Mikey said. "Cuz that's just gross."

"God, Mikey," Gerard laughed. "I'm not shaving there, so drop it." Mikey was laughing on the other end too, and Gerard added, "Do you know how screwed I would be if he woke up to hear you talking about me shaving over there?"

"So it's true?"

"No," Gerard insisted, shutting off the light in the bathroom. "But he wouldn't know that," he continued, leaving the bathroom and going over to the bed. He put the phone back on the regular speaker selection so he wouldn't wake Frank up. Little did he know that Frank was already awake, and pretending to be asleep.

"Fine. Alright, alright," Mikey said from the other end, giving in. Frank could still hear everything, because it was now dead silent in the motel room, and the only thing making noise was Gerard's phone. "So did I send back enough cash for this week?"

"Yeah, Mikey…about that," Gerard said, ceasing all movement. Frank snuggled in the sheets and Gerard proceeded. "I…I owe you so much."

"Don't even worry about it," Mikey said.

"You don't even agree with me leaving," Gerard continued. "I feel bad that you're paying for everything."

Did Gerard mean the motel room? Frank wondered. Was Mikey paying for the room? Frank couldn't believe he let the payment of the room slip his mind. Of course Mikey was paying for it. Gerard was broke, and he refused to use Frank's money because he said it could have been traced. Poor Mikey was paying for it all. How else were they able to stay for three weeks over here?

"It doesn't matter," Mikey said. "It's small money. I can cover that. I have money for me to eat and stuff, so it's all okay. And you're my brother. If you want something, you go get it, and I can't stop that. Even if all you want is a seventeen-year-old boy, you'll get it. I might as well help, right?"

"Mikey, I told you I don't want him," Gerard said, getting back into the bed. "He's seventeen for God's sake."

"Oh, yeah?" Mikey tauntingly asked. "Tell me that you haven't thought about him at all while you've been there."

"I-I can't say that," Gerard protested, stuttering. "Of course I'm naturally gonna think about him, his safety, his well-being…"

"Stop bullshitting me," Mikey said. "You know what I mean."

"I'm not bullshitting," Gerard insisted. Mikey could tell he was lying, but he didn't push it any further.

"Sure. Just like how you weren't shaving yourself a few seconds ago," Mikey said.

"I wasn't," Gerard hissed.

"Where was all that vigor and fervor when I asked you if you've ever thought about the kid? Huh?" Mikey teased, and Gerard didn't say anything. Frank could imagine Gerard was blushing right now as he fumbled for the sheets.

"So anyways," Mikey continued, after making his point. "How's he doing?"

"He's fine," Gerard happily said, and Frank felt his body engulfed by Gerard's arms. He happily snuggled into him, and Gerard sighed. Gerard had been doing this a lot lately, but only when Frank was asleep. He hadn't wanted to sound like a hypocrite, talking about how the two of them together was a 'no-no' but the two of them snuggling and cuddling together was okay. Gerard knew it probably wasn't okay, because the thoughts that would come up from the snuggling contradicted his dogmatic beliefs. He probably hadn't wanted Frank to be able to realize that his position was faltering so much.

"You're touching him, aren't you?" Mikey giggled, and Frank felt Gerard stiffen up from Mikey's comment. See? He knew people would be able to tell. Frank definitely knew now. "Love is in the air!" Mikey yelled.

"Awfully hyper for someone who's awake at 2:00 A.M.," Gerard muttered, and Mikey giggled.

"I had coffee, and now I'm hyper," he explained. "Well, whatever. I called to see how you were doing—''

"Yeah right—''

"—and now I'm going to leave you alone so you can continue messing with Frank," Mikey finished.

"I wasn't," Gerard said, and Mikey's end clicked off. Gerard gave a chuckle before he set his phone down that night and put off the light. He relaxed into Frank again as he muttered, "He's not high on caffeine. He's high on alcohol. Loser probably can't tell the difference."

The fact that the two of them had that conversation meant that they had probably had phone calls prior to that night's. Frank was sure that if it had been the first phone call, Mikey would have yelled at Gerard for leaving without any clue or something, instead of just briefly mentioning it and then paying for their stay.

Frank smiled after remembering the conversation. He had thought it was the funniest thing in the world. He remembered waking up that day tired as hell from staying up so late, but confident as ever. Gerard liked him, at least a little bit. That was all he would give his brother, so that was all Frank knew. But it was still something, as compared to being left alone in the dark. Frank grinned at himself, remembering the tight jeans he had worn that day. All day, he had found some excuse to bend over to pick something up, instead of crouching down. Or he found himself bending down to inspect his shoes instead of bringing his foot up. But he hadn't felt like a complete ass because on more than one occasion, he caught Gerard staring.

So what went wrong from then to now? Why was Frank scared about Gerard leaving all of a sudden? Had the calls from his boss finally got to him? Who the hell is his boss anyway, Frank angrily thought. Doesn't he understand his clients have their own lives? Frank figured Gerard was probably good at his job, whatever it was, because his boss obviously missed him or needed him. But Gerard had his own life, and he was surely eligible enough to miss a couple of days.

The vibrating sound continued and Frank thought about picking it up and answering it out of annoyance. It was only 7:00 A.M. He didn't care if it was 'technically' morning. Gerard was still sleeping, so he was going to have to fucking wait. He, on the other hand, couldn't go back to sleep, scared of what he'd dream about next.

Frank had planned on just putting the phone off, but he decided he couldn't do that. What if Mikey or someone else wanted to reach Gerard? He decided he would make the call silent instead, until someone else called, or if the guy called again. But just as he was about to pick up the phone, the sound stopped and the phone lay still.

Frank didn't buy it though, and picked it up anyway. He was sure that the guy would call again. Frank took a look at the number and decided he'd copy it down and use it one day for a prank phone call. He smiled. That'd be the guy's payback. He'd prank call him at 1:00 A.M. Take that.

For the first time since he was taken from home, Frank put his cell phone on. He honestly hadn't expected any calls from anyone. But to his surprise, he'd found thirty missed calls, and three voicemail messages. He clicked on the missed calls button to see that the thirty calls predominantly consisted of 'Petey,' and then 'Ma,' and 'Pop.' There were a couple calls here and there from random people, but that was about it.

Frank's heart raced when he saw 'Ma' and 'Pop' on the list. Although they had only called twice, they had called, and that was something. He figured they had a voicemail message for him maybe. And, naturally, 'Petey' had called him the most. Twenty-four times. He was sure Pete had a message for him, too.

Before he got to his voicemail, he decided he'd store the annoying guy's number. Frank plugged it in, making sure to transfer the number correctly onto his phone for the future use. He tried to save it when he was done, but to his horror, it wouldn't. Instead, the dialogue box on his screen read, Number already saved. Overwrite?'

" 'Number already saved?'" Frank read aloud. "What?" He closed the box and re-typed the number in very carefully and tried to save it. The same answer came up again.

Maybe it's because I didn't put a name, Frank thought, frantically trying 'Gerard's boss' as the name. Instead, a different dialogue box came up.

'Should Gerard's boss overwrite Petey?' it asked him now, and Frank's heart stopped beating.

No. Fucking. Way.


	20. One Move At A Time

**One Move At A Time**

What Frank really wanted to know was how he got Gerard's number. Had he carelessly left it around somewhere at the house? He tried racking his brain for remembrance of some sort, but his mind wasn't working with him today. If so, he'd never forgive himself. Better yet, if Pete somehow linked Mikey to Gerard and Mikey got hurt in the process of him attaining Gerard's number, he'd never forgive himself either. Gerard loved his brother to death. Frank couldn't even imagine what Gerard would do if Mikey ever got hurt. But why would Pete call Gerard anyway? Was he that desperate to find Frank and get him to come back? Gerard was just the babysitter. What would he know about Frank's whereabouts?

Frank quietly shut his phone off, not interested in his calls anymore, nor the voicemails. He was too shocked at the new discovery. Before lying back in the bed, he put his cell phone beside Gerard's. Gerard was still peacefully asleep, oblivious to Pete's threat to them both.

Whether he liked it or not, the numbers didn't lie; Pete was coming after Gerard. Pete was going to get them both. Pete had obviously tried to contact him, and because he wasn't answering, it was obvious he had moved on to Gerard. He didn't want Pete back, and he didn't want Pete to carry him back there. Frank wanted to stay here, with Gerard. He wanted to be Gerard's boyfriend. And it was a far stretch, but he wanted to become Gerard's 'significant other' too.

It was a sign that Frank had to act now. First, the horrible dream did its part to convince him. Finding out that Pete had been calling Gerard took care of any other doubt Frank had that was holding him back from acting out now also.

He took a sigh as his head hit the pillow, and Gerard chuckled in his sleep. Frank turned on his side to see Gerard giving a cute smirk in his direction, and he brought his hand up to get the hair out of Gerard's face. Gerard had let his hair grow out longer, and Frank had fallen in love with it. Gerard had said it was for his 'disguise,' but Frank argued that he didn't need one. No one still had a fucking clue who they were.

Gerard had tried to cut it off after that, and Frank walked in on him in the bathroom, grabbing the scissors from his hands. Gerard gave him weirded-out look.

"You do know I almost chopped your fingers off, right?" Gerard said, motioning for Frank to return them. Frank kept them in his grip.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Cutting my hair," Gerard said, still motioning for the scissors.

"Don't," Frank quietly pleaded, handing the scissors back to him. "I like it," he added.

"I thought you hated it," Gerard said, putting the scissors down.

"I never said that," Frank protested. "I said I thought you're reason behind 'why' was retarded. But I love your hair like that."

"Oh really," Gerard asked, feigning hurt as he gripped the scissors. "I'm retarded?"

"That reason was," Frank joked along with him. "Especially since no one's worried about me. You think too much," he told him, hitting his head.

"You don't think enough," Gerard replied, sticking his tongue out.

Frank smiled after remembering that scenario. He was glad that Gerard had listened to him. It made him look more dangerous to Frank. More mysterious, too. And he didn't seem to hate it so much. At times, Frank could see it distracted him, but he never once complained.

As Frank removed the strand of hair from Gerard's sleeping face, Gerard happily sighed and Frank moved in closer, feeling calm enough to be in his arms again. He couldn't picture a man as perfect as Gerard with a guy like Pete. It didn't work out in his head, which was why he was so nervous about his dream. Why the hell had he dreamt that?

He was going to have to make a move today. There wasn't a law forbidding them from being boyfriend and boyfriend, so why not? Gerard had no excuse or comment against that. There wasn't one, besides the fact that he might not have liked Frank in the first place. But Frank knew that wasn't as likely anymore. At least, according to the 'Way' phone calls and conversations, Frank had a chance.

And to leave Gerard alone would be like letting Pete 'win.' If Pete ever found out about the two of them, he'd think he still had Frank's heart, and that Frank didn't want to be with anyone else. But that was far from it, and Pete needed to get the clue. He and Gerard were here, and as intimidating Pete might've been to Frank physically, mentally and emotionally, he wasn't here now. And now was Frank's time.

He felt his eyes begin to droop as he snuggled closer to Gerard, burying his head in the crook of Gerard's neck, and Gerard began to rub his back, possibly waking up from all of Frank's movement. Frank had the whole month to make a move, and he hadn't. And if he had, apparently the move wasn't bold enough. But he was running out of time, and he had to get Gerard to see things from his point of view before his dream would come true.

Or worse, before Pete found them both.  


* * *

"You ready to go?" Gerard giddily asked Frank, who sat isolated at the coffee table. Gerard had woken up in such an excellent mood, waking up to find Frank embracing him. He had quietly stepped out of bed to take a shower, and by that time Frank had woken up. He seemed kind of down the whole day, and Gerard thought that it must've been because Frank hadn't received any calls from his parents over the four-week period. He knew it was pretty random, but it was all he could think of when he saw Frank's phone next to his. Gerard's phone was going off non-stop, whereas Frank's never went off once. So after Frank took a shower, Gerard told him that they were going out to enjoy themselves, but his reaction wasn't what he had predicted it'd be.

"Yeah," Frank quietly said, still preoccupied with his thoughts, and Gerard got worried. What if that wasn't the reason? What if Frank was getting bored of him or something? "So, where are we going?" Frank asked, playing with a comb. Gerard had gotten it after growing his hair out.

He had grown it out to be in some sort of disguise, but Frank had told him he was retarded, because he didn't need one. But Frank told him to keep it on, because he liked it. So, he had. He was getting used to it, as a matter of fact. He was starting to like how it looked on him, too.

Truth was, he didn't know where they were going. There was a café across the street that Frank had dragged him out to a couple of times, but besides that there wasn't much. They really had stayed inside most of the time. Occasionally, they would take a walk around the block. Maybe they'd just do that again. "Um…a walk, maybe?" Gerard asked, pointing at the window, and Frank shrugged in agreement.

"Cool," he simply said, rising from his chair. "A walk would be nice," he added, taking his wallet with him. Gerard smiled at him and he smiled back, but his mind still seemed to be elsewhere. Maybe Frank was bored of doing the same thing everyday. "Any place in particular?" he asked, putting on Gerard's shades for the hell of it. He then took them off, placing them back on the table. They looked pretty cute on him, though…

"Um, not really," Gerard told him. "Just a walk. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Frank agreed, opening the door. Gerard realized that Frank had left his cell phone behind, next to his, so he decided to do the same. Maybe that was what was bothering Frank: all the annoying calls, he thought as he followed Frank. After he made sure he had his keys, he closed the door behind him. There was no need for him to bring his cell. It brought him nothing but bad news anyway.

The two of them left the building and started walking towards the back of the motel, an area where they hadn't gone yet. They walked out of the parking lot and passed a couple of dumpsters before luckily stumbling on a passageway that led them to a lake. The lake was pretty dirty and wasted, but it was nice to sit by one anyway. This was about as clean a lake ever was in Jersey, Frank figured. Couldn't have been too clean from Jersey taking New York's trash all the time. Besides, Frank had never been anywhere himself, so this was as good as it got.

"Are you okay, Frankie?" Gerard finally asked, urging Frank to sit next to him on the wooden box he brought forth. Frank did, but he shrugged at Gerard's question.

"I'm fine," he finally said, throwing him a distracted smile. "I'm just…thinking, is all."

"What about?" Gerard asked, urging him to continue. Frank sighed and shook his head, not wanting to answer Gerard's question. He was kind of mad at himself for wasting his time thinking instead of acting. He had a perfect chance this morning. Gerard was in such a good mood. He still was. Maybe Frank would be able to do something if he just got started now. An idea then popped into his head as Gerard stared at him intently.

He'd just ask Gerard what he thought he should do.

"I…" Frank's hands got sweaty as he continued with the 'other' approach. "Have you…have you ever had a boyfriend?" he timidly asked, and Gerard chuckled.

"So this is what you're worried about?" Gerard joked, nudging Frank. "My half-dead love-life?" He continued to tease, and Frank's cheeks furiously flushed red.

"N-No," Frank quickly said, repudiating the statement. He couldn't screw this up. He was tempted to say 'yes,' but where would that get him? "I-I…th-there's this guy at home I-I want to impress…You know, I was thinkin' about what you said with age and stuff, so I…kinda found him…"

"Oh," Gerard said, the smile slightly fading from his face. So Frank has finally moved on, he realized. So that was the explanation for such a quiet morning. Frank was probably thinking of a way to tell me…

He could deal with that, he guessed. He couldn't expect Frank to wait there for him to change his mind forever.

"I mean, you seem pretty suave and all," Frank continued, gaining his confidence in the plan again. He tugged at Gerard's t-shirt. "I was…"

Don't screw this up, Frank, he said to himself as he closed his eyes. Look right at him when you say this stuff. You got this down.

"…wondering if you could help me hook up with him," Frank finished, looking Gerard straight in the eye. Frank could see Gerard was somewhat injured, and it hurt him. He was half tempted to go back and tell Gerard that he was talking about him, but he bit his tongue.

"Um…sure," Gerard agreed. He couldn't really say or do anything. Reason number one, Frank was still a minor, and so it helped Gerard out in a way. And, for him to protest would mean that he never believed in his dogma in the first place. He couldn't have that.

Reason number two went with number one, in that he had brought it on himself, urging and pushing Frank away.

And reason number three was that no matter what happened, as long as Frank was happy, he was happy. He couldn't help but be happy that there was someone out there that Frank wanted to be with. Besides, it was cute watching him sweat over this new guy. Anything was cute on Frank Iero, especially after seeing how depressed and sad he was at home. If this guy made Frank smile, so be it. He'd have to help.

"So…how long have you known him?" Gerard asked, and Frank shrugged.

"Maybe…a month or two," Frank said, and quickly added, "It was on and off, you know."

"Well," Gerard said, becoming a bit more depressed that Frank had actually took his words and wishes to heart. A month. That was around the time Gerard kidnapped him. Maybe he had moved on. "Okay," he tried again, clearing his throat. "So…this guy…does he have any idea that you…?"

"Like him?" Frank asked, his eyes wide and inquiring. "Want him, you mean?"

The manner in which Frank asked him made Gerard chuckle. He was so blunt. "Yeah," Gerard told him after he was done chuckling. "So, does he know?"

"I dunno," Frank admitted, sitting cross-legged on the wooden box. "Sometimes I think he knows…and other times he's oblivious."

"Ah, one of those, eh?" Gerard sadly smiled. Maybe he had a chance after all. "Is the guy younger than you? Sometimes it takes a while for things to 'click.'" Frank sniggered immediately. You would think that it was true, but not in this case. Gerard, who was indeed the oldest, was taking forever to get a clue.

"That's not the case," Frank assured him, dismissing his notion. "I think…" Frank shook his head and started over, looking Gerard straight in the eyes. "Even if he wasn't getting the clue, I want to know what I can do and say to make the message clear, you know?"

Gerard cleared his throat, not at all comfortable with where Frank was taking this. Gerard knew he was being such a baby about it, but he couldn't believe this was happening, and that Frank's heart was now set on someone else. "Someone's on a mission," he muttered, and Frank took it as a joke, lightly shoving him.

"What do I do? What do I say? How do I act? Help me," Frank pleaded, resting his head on Gerard's shoulder. Frank hoped his plan was working. It was now, or never. He had already made up his mind that he was gonna make a move. Now, he just had to carry it out.

Gerard seems to be thinking long and hard about this, Frank noted. Did he pick up on what he was doing? He waited anxiously for his response.

Finally, Gerard opened his mouth. "Well…as your 'mentor' I'd say to wait and let it happen. 'Mr. Right' will come along, you just have to wait for him…all that jazz, blah, blah, blah," he said, staring at Frank's head. Frank lifted his head and met Gerard's eyes.

"What if you weren't my mentor?" he quietly asked him, putting his hand on his chest. Gerard sighed, looking at the murky lake. He couldn't believe he was going to actually answer his question truthfully, and help Frank get this other man. He was pushing Frank further away from him. But if it brought Frank happiness, then…

"You mean as me?" Gerard asked, and Frank nodded, eagerly smiling at him. There was no way he couldn't tell him now. "I'd…I'd say go for it," he admitted to him, still avoiding the eye contact. It was painful to have to watch Frank so happy without him. Opening his mouth once more, he said, "Make a move now."

"Now, huh?" Frank repeated, sitting up. He liked the sound of that. Finally, Gerard was seeing things his way.

"Yeah," Gerard continued, staring straight ahead. "I mean…from what you've said, you've tried to be as subtle as possible around him, and he's still not figuring it out. Do something weird. Kiss him or something."

"Do you think he'd let me?" Frank casually asked, keeping his hand on Gerard's chest. Gerard immediately looked down at Frank's eyes that seemed to be looking at him with uncertainty. Something about the way he asked that question held a bit of sadness and such self-doubt that it bothered him a bit, but he could see Frank tried to hide it. He looked so cute. Why had he passed this up? Frank gave him another shy smile before asking again, "What if he won't let me?"

"You said so yourself that you think he likes you," Gerard said, inwardly cursing the bastard that had stolen Frank's heart. "I think he'd let you…you're a pretty cute kid, Iero." Frank instantly blushed and Gerard blushed as well, surprised that he had uttered that out loud.

"So, uh…" Frank was still recovering from Gerard last compliment. "Do I just go up and kiss him?" Frank asked, resting the hand that was on Gerard's chest on his leg instead. Gerard gave a nod.

"I guess," he said. "Then ask him to be your boyfriend or something," he continued, playing with the wooden box they were sitting on.

A risky idea popped into Frank's head as he thought about what he was going to do. Shaking Gerard's leg, he looked up at him and gave a shy smile.

"What?" Gerard asked, raising a brow.

"I, uh…I know this is gonna sound weird, but," Frank told him. "I…would you mind if I kinda practiced…?"

"Y-You mean, the, uh…" Gerard didn't know what to say. Did Frank mean that he was going to actually kiss him? Or that he was going to think up of some stupid scenario he could act out to lead to kissing that guy?

"Yeah," Frank said. "The, uh…that part…not the kissing," he quickly added, and Gerard let out a fake sigh of relief. He couldn't help himself. One part of him, no matter how small, had wished that was where Frank was headed.

"Mm…sure, why not?" Gerard said, giving in to the excited Frank. Besides, this may have been the last time he got to be this close—body-to-body heat close—to Frank. After Frank got his new boyfriend, he'd probably not want Gerard to be around him as much.

Frank shifted from his seat and sat in Gerard's lap, nervously swinging his feet as he held on to Gerard. Gerard held on to make sure Frank didn't fall off, because he could imagine that Frank would. He could tell that Frank was either really excited or really nervous right now, because it took him a while to stop swinging his feet. Gerard held him tightly as Frank almost fell off from his lap from his nervous movements.

"You okay?" Gerard asked him, and Frank nodded in embarrassment while Gerard held him firmly. He had to stop playing around. It was time to get serious.

"Uh, yeah," Frank told him, putting his jittery arm around Gerard's neck for support. "Ready."

A sad look reflected off of Gerard's face, making Frank shrink inside. Why? Had Gerard thought this act was disgusting? A worried and questioning look passed Frank's face, and Gerard shook his head.

"It's just…you look so nervous," Gerard sadly admitted aloud to both him and Frank. He didn't care if he sounded petty and needy, or whiny. He wanted Frank more than he let himself believe, and now that he was for someone else, he wanted him even more. He couldn't help it, and he didn't want to. He wanted Frank, and it looked like he was slipping away. "You must really like this guy, Frankie," he desolately added.

Frank detected the sorrow in his voice and immediately loosened up, finding a comfortable position in Gerard's arms. It was there, and he heard it: Gerard was finally showing regret for keeping back all this time. Well, luckily for him, Frank didn't plan on going anywhere…

"I do," Frank said, giving a small smile as he tried to level his eyes with his. "I like him a lot. I can't wait until I go home now." He childishly bit his lower lip as he tugged on Gerard's shirt, his smile about to broaden. Gerard was near tears now, though.

"So…you want me to send you back to Belleville? Maxville Avenue?" Gerard unbelievingly asked. "You really wanna go back?" A tear slid down his cheek. Him and his stupid beliefs of 'right' and 'wrong.' Look where they landed him. He was going to have to return Frank and get sent to jail, all without having done anything at all, or making a change of any kind. What a loser.

"No way," Frank said, furrowing his eyebrows together. "To that prison?"

"So…so what do you mean by 'home'?" Gerard feebly asked, still holding on to Frank as Frank sat on top of him. "You, you said there was a guy at home—''

"Gerard, 'home' is 'Room 16,'" Frank said, bringing his face closer to Gerard's. Gerard's eyes searched Frank's face in amazement. His heart began to beat rapidly as he saw Frank lower his guard and felt him caress his face.

"S-so wh-wh-who's the guy?" Gerard timidly asked as Frank lowered his eyelids halfway. Gerard now realized that throughout the moment the space between them had gotten smaller and smaller, and now Frank was completely up against him, leaving no space whatsoever between the two of them.

"It's you," Frank softly admitted, before lowering his mouth to Gerard's.


	21. At Last

Gerard didn't have time to think or react. He just felt the comforting and much needed body of Frank's against his, and Frank's lips against his. Gerard slightly opened his mouth and Frank took advantage of it, soon swirling_ his tongue_ against Gerard's as well. Gerard happily pulled Frank close and encouraged him for the friction he was providing.

_Ohmygod, Frank still likes me_, rang around in Gerard's head the whole time while Frank kissed him. He was bursting with happiness at the moment, and mimicked the movement of Frank's tongue with more force and vitality. This was utterly amazing.

Frank could feel from the kiss that Gerard had finally let his guard down and welcomed whatever he brought to the table with open arms. He had a feeling he'd do that, especially after thinking that he'd almost lost his chance. He had felt bad toying with him like that, especially because Gerard had thought everything was true. But he hoped he'd make up for it with the kiss.

But just as Frank was about to significantly deepen the kiss, Gerard had other things in mind and he brought his hand to caress Frank's cheek, softly pulling away. Frank shyly did the same, realizing that Gerard wanted to keep it nice and simple, and immediately resorted to hugging him instead. Frank couldn't help but be scared that this moment would disappear. He hadn't really thought ahead of that, he realized, his arms hugging Gerard's torso. Now what?

_"Then ask him to be your boyfriend or something,"_ repeated in Frank's mind as he mentally slapped himself. He hadn't done that. If he did that now, it would be awkward, considering that they were holding each other in silence, each of them thinking about their previous acts.

_But this would all be a waste if I didn't say anything_, Frank decided. He had to. The least he could do was say it. He didn't even have to look in Gerard's eyes. Even though it seemed like Gerard wanted and liked him back, that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to be his boyfriend. And if he didn't look in Gerard's eyes, Gerard could always pretend like he didn't hear it if he didn't really want to answer it. And though it would kill Frank inside, Gerard would never know because Frank would act like it never happened either. If he asked and Gerard ignored him, maybe things were just better that way, or meant to be. With all this in mind, he continued.

"Gerard?" he quietly asked.

"Yeah, Frankie?" Gerard answered, rubbing Frank's back.

Shit, Frank thought as he felt Gerard trying to warm him up. Now there was no way Gerard could accidentally 'not hear' the question as an excuse, and there was no way Frank could ask it quietly enough. He had just said 'Gerard' in the quietest of tones, and he had heard it. Now, he was going to have to prepare himself for the possible rejection out loud. He couldn't help but get nervous about the rejection. Too many times in his life he had expected what seemed to be the obvious, only to get really disappointed. This scenario wasn't any different.

"Um…" he didn't think he'd be on the spotlight. He had expected just to mumble it and then Gerard would either accidentally 'hear' him or 'not hear' him. But he had to get this over with. He lifted his head and met Gerard's eyes, a thing he'd said he'd never do. But, that was because he hadn't wanted to bring attention to himself. But it was already here now. He might as well.

"Would you…would you be my boyfriend?" Frank pleadingly asked, gripping Gerard's shirt as he looked questioningly and hopefully into Gerard's eyes.

But Gerard's eyes didn't match Frank's. In fact, there was a flash of doubt in his eyes, and Frank wanted to run away and hide somewhere. He was tempted to leave, but his will power made him stay. If he was going to be rejected, he'd have to face it like a man.

"Frank, I…" Gerard was too shocked to say anything. He couldn't believe this was happening. He had only daydreamed about moments like these. To find that they were real now was…shocking.

Frank was now asking him to be his boyfriend. For once, Gerard abandoned his dogma about the whole issue. But he was still worried about what he'd do to Frank. He wasn't any angel or saint, but that was the way Frank viewed him. He was scared that Frank would find out the truth and become disappointed with him, and he couldn't bear doing that.

He also knew how far he would try to take things with Frank, and he didn't want to spoil Frank's innocence. He would never forgive himself if he did, and he could see that happening in the future if Frank stuck with him as his boyfriend.

Frank seemed to detect his doubt in his eyes, because Frank's own were now mixed with sadness, anger, and hurt. He looked so abandoned, vulnerable, and lost, and it called out to Gerard. He couldn't say 'No.' But he couldn't say 'Yes' either. Either way, any of those answers would bring Frank down.

"Frank, are…are you sure?" Gerard finally asked. "About me? Are you sure you're asking the right perso—''

"I'm asking Gerard-fucking-Way to be my boyfriend, yes," he calmly said, but the anger could be heard through his diction, and the tears forming in Frank's eyes solidified Gerard's suspicion that Frank was more vulnerable than he was letting himself seem. Gerard lowered his eyes, not wanting to edge him on. He had hurt Frank, even without answering the question. It seemed like everywhere he turned, there was another way to hurt Frank.

"So…it's a 'no'?" Frank continued as he quietly asked, his voice going up an octave. He cleared his throat and Gerard looked up and realized he was about to cry crocodile tears.

"I'm just shocked," Gerard told him. "I'm not saying 'no.'"

"But you aren't saying 'yes' either," Frank pointed out, a tear falling from his cheek. Frank hated himself right now. He shouldn't have said anything. He shouldn't have hoped for anything. He should've let things be, instead of jumping around because of some dream he had. He began to slowly slide off of Gerard's lap when Gerard held him back.

"Frankie," he said, urging Frank to look into his eyes. Frank did, but his eyes were filled with dejection only. The sight hurt Gerard. He shouldn't have taken too long to answer the question. But he never thought it would discourage Frank so much. Frank had lost hope by now, expecting Gerard to tell him that they weren't going to be together, and that they should head home for lunch or something now that he was hungry. He was probably expecting Gerard to return to the baby-sitter mode. But he wasn't going to do that.

"I want to be your boyfriend," Gerard said, pulling Frank closer to him. Frank gave a confused look.

"You do?" he satirically asked, still trying to shy away. If you did, you wouldn't have been looking at me that way…

Gerard held him firmly, pulling him back. Frank sat back on his lap, shocked at Gerard's gesture. Frank was pulled closer to Gerard as he tried to hide his tears and shock at the sudden turn of events. Gerard could see the bewilderment in Frank's eyes, and he smiled at the shy boy before he brought his hand to his face, making the boy relax in his grip instantly.

"I do," Gerard repeated to him, stroking his cheek. "I'm just…scared I won't be good enough—''

"You don't need to worry about that," Frank quietly said, dismissing him. If anything, he wasn't good enough. But he didn't want to go into the details now. Gerard would definitely say 'No' then.

"—And that I won't have self-control," Gerard continued to admit, and Frank gave a shy smirk.

"Does it look like I want you to have self-control?" he jokingly asked, trying to get high in the spirits again. He wiped away any evidence of tears as Gerard chuckled.

"Believe me, I need it," Gerard warned him, embracing Frank in a hug.

"So…you mean it?" Frank's voice came out muffled from being pushed against Gerard's shirt, but Gerard heard every word.

"I mean it," he said, kissing Frank's head. "I just want to be good enough—''

"You keep saying that," Frank sadly noted, sitting up. "Trust me, you are good enough. Stop thinking that you're not." Frank bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and Gerard hugged him back. "You are what I want, so don't try to give me any less."

"You make me sound like a saint," Gerard mumbled, staring absentmindedly at the dead looking lake. What he suspected was happening already, and he couldn't help but feel a little like shit when Frank opened his mouth to answer him.

"You are," Frank cheerily said, staring adoringly into Gerard's eyes. "You're my saint, Gee."

* * *

Gee. He had called him Gee.

Nobody had called him that in a while. Mikey used that name back maybe seventeen years ago, back when he was two or three years old. After that he started calling him 'Geetard' because it was easier, and sounded more like 'Gerard.'

That thought remained in Gerard's head as the two of them walked down the path and found their way to the dumpsters in silence. Frank had an unbelievably broad smile on his face the whole way, and Gerard couldn't help but smile as well, his new nickname ringing in his head.

They made their way to the entrance of the motel when Gerard asked Frank to wait at the bottom for him. Frank happily agreed, sitting on the waiting bench as Gerard went inside the room. Frank happily sat, kicking at a leaf on the ground.

He had never imagined that it would all work out like this for him. When he first met Gerard, he had never thought in his wildest dreams that he would end up here. He remembered thinking,_ Great. Another phony_, as soon as he laid eyes on him when he ran out of his parents' conference room. And then a month and a couple weeks later, here he was.

Gerard actually agreed, and he didn't give him that fake speech on their age difference. But he had mentioned that he was scared about ruining his innocence and not being good enough. _But I'm not innocent at all_, Frank thought miserably to himself.

Just then, Gerard came out, holding his cell phone along with Frank's, and the events in the morning came back to haunt him. The phone calls, the numbers, Gerard's boss.

Gerard handed Frank's phone to him and smiled. "You had it on, for the first time ever. What was that about?" Frank graciously took his phone and managed a smile on his face again.

"Nothing," he told him, shoving it deep into his pocket. He'd bring it up later. Today, this moment, was way too important to screw it up by his cowardice. Honestly, what was Pete gonna do? He was thinking of it too much. Pete probably got Gerard's number from Tina. That was plausible. Maybe it was getting hard to convince his parents that Frank was locked up in his room depressed as usual. Or maybe not, and Pete just wanted to know where the hell he was. So it was only natural that he'd go and seek out Gerard, the sitter Frank had liked so much. Maybe he would know where Frank was.

"So, uh…" Gerard looked around, chucking his phone in his back pocket. "What now?" he shyly asked Frank.

Getting his mind off of the phone call, Frank also chucked his phone in his back pocket and hit his wallet, an item he forgot he had taken along for the walk. Meeting Gerard's bashful expression, Frank took out his wallet and waved it in Gerard's face as Gerard laced his arm around Frank's waist.

"Food," he giddily said, dragging Gerard with him to that café down the street. Gerard started to protest, and Frank shut him up.

"And don't you dare try to fight about it because I'm your boyfriend now." Gerard shook his head still protesting, but he followed Frank anyway. _Ghagh, he was such a cute kid_.

"So, the café again?" Gerard laughed, ruffling Frank's hair, as he grinned.

"Yup," he said, waving his wallet again as they neared the front doors. He got on his tiptoes just before Gerard opened the doors and whispered gleefully in his ear, "And I'm paying for our first date."


	22. Date

"So…coffee, huh?" Frank laughed, watching Gerard gulp down the caffeine.

"Definitely," Gerard agreed, setting his cup down for a second. "How's the cocoa going for you?"

"It's…nice," Frank said, quieting down as he spun it around. He honestly didn't like it too much. He had asked for pure chocolate cocoa and for it to be mixed with soymilk, if they had any. But they had put in cow milk, and he didn't like drinking that raw. Or at least not with chocolate…

"So we're official," Gerard happily noted, shoving Frank amiably. "We are officially a couple."

"A pair," Frank said.

"Boyfriends," Gerard corrected.

"Two peas in a pod," Frank sweetly concluded, silencing the both of them as Gerard smiled at the cute statement, taking another drink of his coffee.

They sat in silence for a while, quietly observing the people around them. The shock of the moment was still there, and Frank wasn't quite sure what to say. He shook the chocolate milk again, about to take a sip when he remembered that there was cow milk in there.

"What's wrong?" Gerard concernedly asked, setting his cup down. "Is it too cold? You've only taken one sip, and it's been ten minutes."

"It's nothing, really," Frank tried to assure him. "The hot chocolate is just…"

"Oh my God," Gerard said once he realized the possibility. Chocolate milk had cow milk in it. He hadn't remembered whether or not Frank had pointed it out to the waiter, but that didn't matter. He should've checked out for him. "There's milk in there, isn't it?"

"It's okay," Frank told him, shrugging it off. "I'm not that thirsty anyway."

"What about getting your money back?" Gerard asked, about to call for the waiter again. "Wasn't that ten dollars a glass or something?"

"It's okay," Frank said, but Gerard insisted on calling the waiter back anyway.

"Yeah?" he lazily asked, carrying another tray full of coffees, lattes and tea. "You order somethin'?"

"No, not real—''

"Yes, we, uh…we do," Gerard said, taking Frank's cup from him. "Um, you see, my boyfriend ordered for a chocolate drink—''

"And he has one," the guy interrupted, turning to leave.

"He's vegan," Gerard went on to complain. "He asked for a different type of milk, if you guys had any. And he said that if you didn't have any then he'd just take water."

"I, uh…I don't drink plain milk," Frank kindly explained, motioning to the drink in Gerard's hand. "It makes me kind of sick." The waiter sighed, rolled his eyes, and took the chocolate filled glass, heading back into the kitchen.

"You didn't have to," Frank told Gerard, looking towards the kitchen. "You were almost done with yours. We could have gone."

"I didn't have to, but I wanted to, and I did," Gerard replied to him, putting his drink aside. "Besides, I'm supposed to watch over you and stuff. You said no milk, so there should be no milk. I mean, what if you had been allergic to it? What if you went into anaphylaxic shock? What if your throat closed up? You have bronchitis, don't you?"

"You're worrying too much, Gee," Frank laughed, grabbing Gerard's empty cup and playing with it. "It's sweet, it really is, but I'm not allergic to it. I mean, I feel bad, but that's the worst that can happen." Frank looked up to see that Gerard was still heavily thinking about the scenarios.

"But he didn't know that," Gerard pointed out. "He should've paid more attention." Frank gave a light shrug in agreement, and decided to try and close the topic.

"Well, hopefully they'll just bring water next time," he said, giving Gerard back his cup. Gerard stared at it before he set it down on the table again. He was about to open his mouth when the waiter walked in, handing Frank a water bottle.

"That'll be another $2.50," he said, and Gerard shook his head.

"We already paid $10 for the drink that he couldn't have," he told him. "We should either be getting the rest of our money back, or at least three more water bottles."

"We have a no-return policy about the drinks," the waiter said. "So, it'll be another $2.50 please."

Gerard glared at the waiter and Frank gave the water back to him. The last time something like this happened had been a month ago, with the take-out guy. He had given in to him, but he wasn't about to do the same thing again. "I don't want it. You can keep it," he politely said to the waiter, while Gerard looked like he had a few more things he wanted to add to Frank's statement. But the waiter took the drink away, so he didn't say anything. When Gerard brought up the idea of paying no tip, Frank surprisingly agreed. "I don't think he likes us anyway," he said in his defense.

As the two of them left the seats, the waiter went to their table to see that he had gotten no tip. He gave an angry mutter as he picked up Gerard's cup and wiped the table clean, stomping over to the kitchen area, which was nearby where Frank and Gerard now were.

"What's wrong?" A friend of his asked him, and the waiter nodded over at Frank and Gerard.

"Those two," he said, loud enough for them to hear. "First, they want chocolate milk. Then they call me and say 'No, not cow milk. I'm vegan.' As if I was supposed to know. What the hell is milk if it isn't from a cow? So I go back and get a water for the guy, and then, after telling me to go get a new one, they tell me they don't want anything anymore once I've already gotten everything. Picky faggots," he muttered, staring at Frank and Gerard as they exited the café. "Picky little bastards."  


* * *

"That guy probably hates us now," Frank giggled as they walked back to the motel. "We made him go back and search for something and we didn't even buy it."

"Who cares?" Gerard asked. "He could've killed you. He should learn a lesson."

"You're so protective," Frank laughed again. "Boyfriend-mode kicking in?" he joked, and Gerard gave a shy shrug as they continued the brief walk.

They walked a block more in a comfortable silence, reaching the doors to the motel room. Frank waited as Gerard took out his keys and unlocked the door to get inside. Once the door was open, the two of them rushed inside, eager to be in the comfortable atmosphere. The two of them took off their shoes and sat on the bed next to each other, Frank following Gerard.

They sat for a few seconds before Frank resumed the prior conversation. "You know, now that I think about it, you are protective."

"Is that a bad thing?" Gerard asked, lying on the bed. "I mean, I guess everyone has their ups and downs…"

"I'm not pointing it out as a bad thing," Frank said quickly. "I'm just saying…notice the joke I made about 'boyfriend-mode' and stuff? I just kinda noticed that you were that way before we became…'official'."

"Oh," Gerard said, laughing. "Well, that's because I don't want anything to happen to you."

"And that's sweet of you," Frank added. "Because I think we've been boyfriends since day one."

"Day one?" Gerard asked, sitting up. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that nothing has changed since we've become boyfriends," Frank pointed out.

"Frank, we haven't even been boyfriends for one day yet," Gerard said.

"Not officially, anyway," Frank stubbornly insisted. "But we have. And it's not just the fact that you try to make everything perfect for me all the time. If that isn't enough, then what about the contact?"

"Contact?" Gerard asked. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Us sharing the same bed, cuddling with each other, using each other's things, how we play with each other," Frank said. "Not to mention the fact that I already liked you. That sounds like boyfriend stuff to me."

"It sounds like you just described me and Mikey," Gerard chuckled, shaking his head. "Great. Now I'm thinking about having Mikey for a boyfriend. Thanks a lot, Frankie."

"Anytime," he joked, rubbing his arm. "But seriously, Gerard…I feel like we've been boyfriends for a while now. Only difference now is that we acknowledge it."

"I get what you're saying," Gerard admitted. "But I think you're thinking too much about it."

"Well you can't blame me," Frank said. "I've been thinking about this for a while, now…" _Ever since the day you actually returned to watch me…_

Gerard laughed, urging Frank to lie down on the bed as well. Frank easily gave in, and Gerard waited until he settled to say, "So have I." But he had said that in a hushed tone. Frank wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear that.

"You know…I know what you do at night," Frank said slyly.

"Huh?" Gerard asked, about to sit up again. Was he talking about the snuggling?

"The excess cuddling," Frank said, and Gerard lied back down, sheepishly looking away. "No, it's okay! I don't mind. I was just hoping that since we're…you know…maybe you could do that while I was a bit more conscience?" Frank hopefully asked.

Gerard slowly but tenderly wrapped his arms around Frank's body and pulled him close, breathing in his wonderful scent. He could feel him relax in his grip and he nuzzled his nose in the crook of Frank's neck. "Like this?" Gerard asked, playing with strands of Frank's hair.

"Perfect," Frank quietly said, about to doze off. Time was catching up with him for waking up so early. He could hear that Gerard was debating whether or not to open his mouth and say something, but he did eventually.

"Frank?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"I…" He couldn't stop thinking about what had made Frank so dreary in the morning today. It obviously affected him, seeing that he was quickly about to dose off. He had ended up asking to be boyfriends, so Gerard knew he wasn't the problem. But he wanted to know what had been bothering Frank earlier today. Had Frank been nervous about asking him? And if he was, was it because of his past boyfriend?

"What's wrong?" Frank worriedly asked, turning around to face Gerard. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" Gerard asked, holding his shoulder. "I mean…you seemed pretty down this morning. Have you ever had a boyfriend before? Was that the reason why…?"

Frank gulped, not sure how to answer this question. Was this a question Gerard wanted a straight 'yes' or 'no' answer to? Or did he want some kind of explanation? Either way, he knew he'd bring up Pete, and he needed to be avoided as much as possible. Frank shook his head, deciding to answer the last question.

"No," he said to him. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine." He snuggled into Gerard's arms once more before murmuring, "I'm fine right here."


	23. Mistakes Last A Long Way

Frank sat in the corner of the room, playing briefly with his phone. He had expected that after becoming an item with Gerard that his suspicions would leave, but that was far from it. He was still trying to make sense of Pete's number in Gerard's phone, but he was coming up to dead ends. And all those ends ended with the two of them getting caught and found and sent back home. His mind began to wander to possible escapes. If they ever did escape, they would need the proper disguises. Gerard already had his long hair going for him, but he wanted to do something with his hair, too. Maybe he'd just shave all his hair off. He wasn't sure, but he was sure that he'd have to change the style.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts of possible hairstyles that he began to gaze at Gerard and the bang of hair that covered his eyes for ideas. Gerard was lazily sprawled out on the bed with a pad, watching Clifford right now, oblivious to all the cares in the world. He held on tightly to the pad in his hands as he took another glance at _Clifford_, trying to make a cartoon of his own as his hair kept falling in front of his eyes. Maybe if he had something like that with his hair, but different…

It took him a while before he noticed Gerard was gazing back at him. "What?" Gerard had shyly asked, putting his attention on Frank rather than the television. "Is there something on my face?"

"No," Frank said, smiling at the nervous Gerard. "You're my boyfriend, and I happen to think you're hot. Do I need any other reason?" he joked, and Gerard relaxed a little. He had realized that Frank had been right, as he earlier predicted, and nothing had really changed when they made it official that they were now boyfriend and boyfriend. That was the only comment Frank had made within the last couple of days that kind of reminded them that they each knew how the other felt about one another.

"Seriously," Gerard said, smiling as he shut the pad. "What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about a haircut," Frank admitted, putting his phone aside. Gerard saw that and chuckled.

"Is that what's got you so serious?" he asked. "You've been quietly inspecting your phone for about 15 minutes, surfing the net on hairstyles? That's cute. You did know that there was a computer in the closet, right?"

"I'm serious," Frank insisted, ignoring him. "I want a new look, too." Gerard kept laughing, but Frank continued as he neared him on the bed. "I want something that just kinda came to mind while I was gazing off a few seconds ago."

"Are you sure about this?" Gerard asked Frank, sitting up on the bed. "You want to cut it?"

"I want to," Frank insisted, tugging his hair. "You cut yours, I wanna cut mine." Frank sat in Gerard's bed as he tried to concentrate on the television. The motel TV only came with the basic channels, and had no cable, so they kept it on PBS. They rarely watched TV anyway. But now that it was on, Clifford was airing and Frank knew he wasn't really watching it now. He had shut his pad earlier before. He got up from his seat, leaving his phone behind as he crawled and sat next to Gerard, bumping the bed. "Gerard," he complained.

"But I like your hair," Gerard semi-whined back, running his hands through it. Frank giggled as he relaxed in Gerard's arms.

"You don't think I look like a girl?" he asked, bouncing the end of his hair. "It's curly at the end and shit."

"I don't care," Gerard told him.

"But I got an idea, and I wanna try it out," Frank tried to persuade him. "I wanna look tougher, you know? Scare the shit out of people." Gerard immediately laughing at the idea of Frank scaring anyone.

"What?" Frank demanded, feigning hurt.

"Why all the 'edgy' now?" Gerard asked teasingly. "Something happen?"

"It's Halloween soon," Frank eagerly explained. "_Halloween_. Do you know what that means?" Frank got up quickly and tied his hair in a ponytail, leaving the front bangs out in front of his eyes. "I'm getting ready for Halloween."

"Must be a huge fan of it," Gerard noted, looking at Frank's tattooed fingers. Frank nodded, looking his tats over with pride.

"You'll see," Frank said, grinning at him. Gerard gave a shrug.

"I dunno. Halloween is…Halloween. Not much about it," Gerard told him. "At least, not yet. I have a feeling you're going to try and change my mind, though." Frank happily nodded, fixing his hair.

"Now, back to the hair," Frank eagerly said. "I want it like this." Gerard stared at the bang hanging in front of Frank's eyes. It was hypnotizing and interesting. The simple act did make him look a little more dangerous.

Feeling Gerard's eyes burning into his, Frank blushed and tried to get back on focus. "I, uh…I don't want to completely shave everything off, but I want to basically cut the ponytail part off. Basically, it'll just be…it'll be the bang in front of my eyes, basically," Frank jabbered, fumbling with the hair-tie.

Gerard liked that style, he had to admit. It brought out Frank's features and made them bolder. It especially brought out the piercings he had on his face, along with his eyes. They were more visible and more illuminating to him, and it made Frank even seem older than he was. If not older, it made him seem tougher. That, along with his tattoos, made him look like the kind of person someone would think twice about before messing with him. He seemed like he could pass for Mikey's age or more, even. It wasn't like Gerard disliked Frank's hair as it was now; he loved it. But the style Frank was suggesting seemed exotic, and he was curious to see Frank with it.

"I think it'll come out better than how I'm making it sound," Frank nervously explained, playing with his hair again, and Gerard nodded.

"Fine," Gerard said, watching Frank's smile broaden. "We can give it a try. We could always let it grow out if it doesn't work out. But aren't you worried about wasting money on the haircut? You won't be able to get it back."

"Speaking of money," Frank said, sidetracking. "You haven't been to work in about one to two months. You have no money coming in besides Mikey, and I feel bad about that."

"I have change," Gerard said. _And if things ever get really bad, I'll just work again._ "Everything's fine."

"You know, I could work _with _you," Frank offered coyly, and Gerard vehemently shook his head.

"No. No _way_," he said.

"No, I _want _to," Frank eagerly said. "Don't they have a 'bring someone to work' day? Couldn't you send me? I wanna help you."

"No you don't," Gerard bitterly laughed. "I have a horrible job. You'd hate it."

"If you're there, then I'll learn to love it," Frank said, insisting on the offer. He saw Gerard open his mouth but he shut him up. "I don't know what the job is, but you said I'd hate it. So…let's say you were a grave digger."

"Grave digger?" Gerard asked. "How random is that?" he laughed.

"I dunno, but it's the first thing that came to my mind," Frank said, brushing it off. "I'd hate doing that. I mean…it's a depressing job. Anyway, let's say that was your job." He turned to Gerard and held his shoulder. "Imagine you and me, the both of us together, getting sweaty, dirty and working hard on the job, huh? Wouldn't that be much better? I mean, how great would that be?"

Gerard couldn't help but chuckle at Frank's statement. There was no doubt in his mind that if Frank were 'working' with him, he'd be fine. But his laughter soon faded as he imagined Frank in his shoes. In all seriousness, he didn't want that life for Frank.

"Well, that's too bad, because I have money for the haircut," Gerard said, getting back on track. "I just wanted to know if you wanted to risk it—''

"Risk what?" Frank asked.

"Going out to get your hair cut," Gerard said, creating a scissor-like motion with his hands.

"Oh, I don't want to go out," Frank told him, grabbing his boyfriend's hands. Gerard smiled at how easily he had changed the subject. "I was kinda hoping that you'd cut it for me," he shyly continued, and Gerard smiled at his adorable suggestion.

"Why not?" he smiled at him, rubbing his head. Frank broke out into a smile and hugged Gerard.

"It'll work out," Frank told him, running to the bathroom to find the shaver. "I'm so fucking excited!" he shouted from the inside of the bathroom, and Gerard followed him inside.

"You have to promise me that you'll tell me exactly how you want it," Gerard warned him, bringing a seat to the bathroom and setting it in front of the mirror. Frank eagerly plopped in it and brushed Gerard off.

"Like you said, I can always grow it back, right?" he asked. "And besides, we're in hiding anyway. No one's gonna see this." Although the statement was true, Gerard couldn't help but feel sad from the statement. Was he going to keep Frank inside forever? He had met him about a month or two ago, and already he was keeping Frank away from his education. School had started about three weeks ago, but Frank never mentioned it once. Then again, maybe things were better off for Frank in the sense that he wasn't getting beat up.

He didn't like the idea or reality of the fact that he was actually keeping Frank away from the world, even if it was helping him out. "You could make it as shitty as you want, actually," Frank said, interrupting his thoughts. "It's just the two of us, so I don't mind." He handed Gerard the shaver and waited anxiously for Gerard to begin, but Gerard had a sense of determination. He would treat this haircut like an art project. He was going to carefully cut and sculpt the hair one part at a time to its desired style. He was going to try as hard as possible to give Frank the hair he wanted, even though he had never seen or heard of it before, and even though he wasn't going to show it off to people from the outside. That didn't mean he didn't deserve to feel as good as he could look.

Taking a deep breath, Gerard flipped the shaver on and began his task.  


* * *

Frank comfortably snuggled into Gerard's grasp as he was asleep, still getting used to his new hairdo. According to Frank's response to Gerard's barber skills, he had done okay. Frank stared open mouthed into the mirror, non-moving and mouth gaping as he felt his head and touched his hair, before finally jumping on Gerard to give him a hug once Gerard was done.

"I love it!" he said, smiling. "It's fucking amazing."

It was nice to see him so happy again, and it felt nice to Gerard to feel wanted and needed as he was today. That was the second thing (Gerard was counting) that they had done together as boyfriend and boyfriend since the café. As Frank had tried to point out earlier, nothing had really changed between the two of them.

Although they had given each other permission to snuggle with one another, it wasn't as if they hadn't been doing that already. They were already used to each other's presence, knew what the other person liked and disliked, and knew about most of the other's personality. All they had done a couple days ago was set the record straight with each other and had outwardly come out and confessed that they each liked the other.

So, where to go from here?

Nowhere, is where Frank decided. The past couple of days, he went back to the regular schedule of waking up, watching 'Elmo's World,' and eating before heading off back to bed again, claiming that he was tired. Gerard knew something was up, though. Whenever Gerard went to bed and woke up, he always found his phone in a different place than where he'd left it.

He didn't bother too much though. This gave him time to finish his sketch of Frank that he had started a month or two ago of the innocent Frankie that was under his guidance and supervision.

But he couldn't help but feel thrown off the center by Frank's regular attitude and Mikey's lack of phone calling to find out what was going on. Something was off balance here, but he didn't know what.

Just then, Gerard's cell started to vibrate in his pocket, where Frank's face was against his leg. Frank gave a slight moan as Gerard shifted to pick it up and answer. He waited until Frank re-adjusted against his leg before he looked at who was calling. Wouldn't want to pick up and answer to Pete, now would he?

Luckily, and surprisingly, it was Mikey. Excitement ran through his veins as he answered his phone. Mikey hadn't called him in four days. "Hello?" he eagerly whispered. "Mikey?"

"Hey, Gerard," Mikey said from the other end, sounding tired and exhausted. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Gerard replied, rubbing Frank's head. "I just gave Frankie here, a haircut."

Mikey chuckled a bit before he asked, "What was the occasion?"

"Nothing really," Gerard happily said. "I just wanted to." There was a pause on the other end while Mikey thought this over. Gerard opened his mouth to ask about Mikey. "So how's it been—"

"So, you and Frank," Mikey continued, interrupting him. "Almost two months now…you guys hit it yet?"

"No," Gerard laughed. "Not yet."

"You said 'not yet'," Mikey noted. "What happened to 'He's too young for me'?" Gerard didn't answer right away, not too sure with what to say. Mikey, however, understood perfectly.

"You hooked up with him, didn't you?" he asked, quietly allowing himself to laugh on the other end. "I knew you'd quit that 'age' shit. When'd it happen?"

"About five days ago or so," Gerard admitted, giggling like a teenage girl. "He kissed me and I said 'yes'."

"So he made the move, huh?" Mikey asked.

"Yeah," Gerard admitted, staring down at the peaceful looking Frank. "He's so sweet…"

"Uh-oh," Mikey said worriedly. "You said that in a sad way…or is that just me?"

"I…I dunno, Mikey," Gerard admitted. "I mean, he asked about my job, and he offered to work for me and stuff."

"You mean the 'errands' you do?" Mikey asked, oblivious to what it was that Gerard did exactly. That part was Gerard's fault. He'd never told Mikey how and where he got his money from. He thought he was protecting Mikey that way.

At least, he _thought _Mikey was oblivious to it all.

"Yeah," Gerard said, quiet himself. "It was pretty sweet."

"Well, he was thinking about your job. Have you thought about his schooling?" Mikey pointed out seriously. This tone was unnerving. Mikey sounded tired, upset, and lifeless. "School started about three weeks ago, you know."

"I totally forgot, but I don't think he minds too much," Gerard told his younger brother. "Every time I bring it up, he tries to change the subject. He doesn't want to go home. And I don't want to send him back."

"I can see why," Mikey jokingly scoffed. "You have Frank all to yourself with no interruptions."

"I'm not gonna sleep with him," Gerard insisted, and Mikey scoffed again, a little bit more seriously this time.

"I'm not an idiot, Gerard," he told him, making Gerard blush furiously. "I know what's gonna happen."

The line stayed quiet for a while before Mikey sternly said again, "You have Frank all to yourself, and you've said his family is the type that doesn't care, right?"

Sensing that Mikey was now getting to the root of the problem, Gerard perked his ears out. "Yeah. Why? What's wrong?"

"Does he have any siblings or anything?" Mikey prodded him, and Gerard shook his head.

"No," he said. "What's wrong?" he asked as Mikey gave a sigh on the other end.

"This guy…'Pete W-something'…he keeps calling me and telling me that you have his little brother…?"

Shit.

"Pete?" Gerard quietly asked.

"Yeah," Mikey said. "He said his brother probably ran away with you, and that his parents are pretty mad and want him back…and you're only away with Frank, right? So I told him that you were with a kid named Frank, and he said that was his brother's name."

"I-If Frank's his brother, t-then why didn't he know his name?" Gerard asked, hoping that Mikey hadn't said anything else.

"Exactly what I thought," Mikey said, to Gerard's relief. "So I told him I didn't know where you were."

Gerard let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully, Pete wouldn't go back there again. He wanted to keep Mikey out of it.

"Are you sure you don't know him, Gerard?" Mikey directly asked him. "Are you sure this is some random guy?"

"Yeah—"

"I'm serious, Gerard," Mikey said. "Don't lie to me. He isn't as random or lying about everything like you're telling me he is." His voice was now cold and angry, similar to the one in the beginning of the conversation.

"Mikey—''

"He knows something I don't, Gerard. You know something I don't. You're keeping me out of it. I know he knows you. He was calling you Arthur, until I told him to get it fucking straight and that your name was 'Gerard'. Then he smiled. He fucking _smiled _at me. It was a pity smile. He knows I have no fucking idea what's going on. I hate it, Gerard. How does a stranger know more than I do?" Mikey angrily demanded. "I'm your _brother_."

"Mikey, what are you talking about?" Gerard asked. How much had Pete said over there?

"Stop bullshitting!" Mikey shouted. "Tell me the truth now. Is it true? After all I've done busting my ass for you, have you been doing _him _as your 'second' job? Your 'errand'?"

Gerard gave a silent gasp as his mouth dropped open, and he fell silent in shame. Mikey gave an angry scoff on the other end before Gerard soon heard the dial tone.

He hadn't expected this at all from Mikey. What had Pete said? What had he done? He had thought that by keeping Mikey in the dark he was doing the right thing. No one would know about his secrets besides him and Pete. His demons should have stayed with him and him alone. It was the best method, keeping his younger brother out of the loop. But apparently, Mikey hadn't thought so.


	24. Not Holding Back

Last night's conversation played over in Gerard's head. Mikey knew now. What was worse was that he had to find out from a stranger about it. It must have been really embarrassing for him. The brother for whom he had given everything up for was keeping secrets from him. It shouldn't have to be this way.

But why on Earth would Pete go to Mikey and talk about Frank? How'd he know him anyway? Or did he just have a lucky guess? Like Mikey said, he had to mention Frank's name before Pete thought to use it. But it was eerie how Pete seemed to guess everything so perfectly…

Frank stepped out of the bathroom as Gerard was consumed by his thoughts of last night. Gerard was met with the sight of Frank's back in baggy jeans and a semi-tight T-shirt as he placed his clothes in the laundry basket/box they had. Gerard had offered to take him to the park today, so Frank was actually putting on some jeans and a shirt, as opposed to the usual plain baggy sweatpants and wifebeater he usually wore.

Gerard's mind was still stuck on Pete and the coincidences. It would be weird if Frank knew Pete. He couldn't imagine it happening in real life. How could someone so innocent be linked with someone so dirty and impure? It wasn't possible.

Dirty thoughts started to run through Gerard's mind, like Pete and Frank together. It was hard to envision Pete holding Frank in a loving or meticulous grip. Actually, knowing Pete, it probably wasn't a loving grip at all. Pete would take advantage of Frank, surely. He'd take advantage of Frank's youth, his body and body shape, and his emotions and feelings. He'd drain Frank of life. He'd probably rape him.

Frank unexpectedly turned around, throwing Gerard a cute smirk. "Were you checking me out?" he asked. Gerard blinked twice before breaking into a giggle. "Don't worry," Frank told him, coming back on the bed and crawling next to Gerard. "I do the same thing to you every time," he admitted, pecking a kiss on Gerard's nose. Gerard blushed, erasing the previous thoughts from his head.

Luckily and hopefully, Frank didn't know anyone like that. And Frank was with _him _now anyway. Frank pulled away and buried his head in the crook of Gerard's neck, wrapping his arms around Gerard as he settled beside him. He started kissing the neck of his boyfriend as he began to toy with his hair, earning a moan from Gerard before he shyly pulled away. Frank smiled bashfully at Gerard as Gerard locked him in a hold, and bit his lip. Gerard couldn't help but smile back at his behavior.

"Good morning," Frank said to him happily, squeezing his arm. "You okay? You seem out of it this morning."

"I'm fine," Gerard assured him, rubbing Frank's back. "I'm just thinking," he admitted, and Frank nodded understandingly, furrowing his eyebrows.

"About what?" he asked, shifting his position to get a better view of Gerard's eyes. Gerard shrugged, avoiding eye contact with him in fear of his eyes betraying him. "Is it about me?" Frank asked, sitting up. "Can I help?"

"No, it's just me and my twisted mind," Gerard joked, rubbing Frank's head. Frank raised a teasing eyebrow at him as he inched closer to him.

"Twisted?" Frank repeated, grinning like a mischievous little boy. Gerard chuckled at Frank's expression as he seductively added, "I don't mind _twisted_," grabbing a hold of Gerard's shirt as his face neared Gerard's. Gerard continued to giggle, used to Frank's jokes, and a few seconds later, Frank broke off into giggles himself, shaking his head at what he'd just said.

Gerard's giggling soon subsided as he thought about Frank and if he ever meant any of the things he'd said. This wasn't the first time this had happened. About three weeks ago, something similar happened and Frank reacted to it the same way; he had said something extremely sexy and laughed about it like it was a joke immediately after, which disappointed Gerard. It had taken him a while, but he had finally figured that Frank wasn't interested in sleeping with him. At least, not now.

He didn't know what he was expecting from Frank. He just always imagined that if he and Frank ever became boyfriends, he'd have a lot to keep up with. But, Frank wasn't like that at all. Frank spent his time watching TV and sleeping. Occasionally, he'd say something that would turn Gerard on, but he'd laugh or giggle about it afterwards, saying, "Yeah, right" or "I can't believe I said that." But there were times that the two of them spoke. They would speak about anything but each other. Frank was Frank, and Gerard was getting hornier by the minute.

He knew that it was him in the beginning who had told Frank to lay off of that stuff, but now that Frank had completely stopped trying to push himself on Gerard, _Gerard _was picking up on the role. Frank was like a good pair of jeans at the mall; He had always wanted him. But now that Gerard 'owned' and 'bought' that pair of jeans that he badly wanted to wear, it was harder for him to try to stuff them in his closet and ignore them. He wanted to wear them and he wanted to wear them now.

If he could have his way and make himself younger and take back all the 'age' shit he had spoken about earlier, he and Frank would be having sex right now. He could imagine running his hands through Frank's hair, tugging him close. He could imagine Frank's eyes rolling to the back of his head as he slid his tongue along the bottom of his penis, taking him in his mouth. He could imagine Frank's screams of pleasure as he penetrated him over and over and over…

Frank looked at him expectantly, and Gerard blinked several times before he realized. A small grin crept up on Frank's face, and Gerard blushed again, shifting his position on the bed. Frank had a smug look on as he tried to stare at Gerard, who was avoiding eye contact by looking at the wall.

"What were you thinking about?" Frank demanded, trying to meet Gerard's eyes. Gerard gave a light shrug, trying to look away.

"Gerard," Frank warned him playfully, coming in front of his face as Gerard tried to back out, giggling. "Look at me," he continued, and Gerard disobediently shut his eyes. Frank got a hold of Gerard's shoulders and swiftly pinned him down on the bed, sitting on top of him victoriously. Gerard gave him a look of feigned surprise, and Frank giggled.

"You gave me this right when you said we were boyfriends," Frank said, comfortably sitting over him with his legs open. He had to make sure that he wouldn't do or say anything that would cause him to inflate, because he was sure Gerard would definitely feel something otherwise. "No need for the 'pillow fight' now," he said, and Gerard smirked.

"So, you knew?" Gerard asked, and Frank nodded triumphantly.

"I know," he repeated for emphasis, and Gerard giggled.

"Fine," he admitted. "You caught me, Frankie. I'm sorry—''

"What the hell are you sorry for?" Frank sputtered. "I'm not complaining, Gee. It was actually pretty smart of you."

"Now that I think about it, Frankie, I wasn't the one that started it," Gerard smartly said, smirking himself. This time, it was Frank's turn to blush, and Gerard giggled. "It was pretty smart, though," he continued, and Frank giggled at him.

"Well I'm happier that we're a couple now," Frank said, easing up on Gerard. Gerard's heart rate sped up as Frank's mouth neared his face, but he told himself that this was another one of Frank's jokes, and that he'd end up giggling again. But to his surprise, Frank didn't. Instead, he whispered in his ear, "Or else I'd have to think up some excuse for wanting to do this to you," before resigning back to sucking on Gerard's neck, making Gerard shudder at the contact. Gerard's hands instinctively went to Frank's back, encouraging him to go on. Frank grinned into the last suck, and he nibbled it gently, making it linger before pulling away to face fluster-eyed Gerard.

"Can you imagine how hard it would have been to come up with some excuse?" Frank timidly asked afterwards, resting his head on Gerard's chest while he made circular motions with his finger on Gerard's arm. Gerard grinned in response, still reacting from Frank's action. That was the second (he was counting for this one, too) sexual thing Frank had done to him, besides the amazing kiss at the dirty lake. "I'd have to get you under me again and pretend to fall or something," Frank went on, weighing different scenarios. "Or maybe I'd wait until you were sleeping…but that would just be really awkward if you woke up," he giggled, and Gerard rubbed his head, content.

"I'm happy I'm your boyfriend, too," Gerard said, kissing Frank's forehead. "Believe me, Frankie. I probably would have thought up a way, too." His smiled broadened as he heard Frank giggle at his honest answer and peck a kiss on his chest.

"I'm so happy you found me," Frank murmured while Gerard played with his new haircut. "You've truly changed my life for the better. Y'know that?" he looked up and gave him a genuine smile. Gerard looked back at him with sympathetic understanding as he continued to twirl Frank's hair on his finger. He was happy to hear these things from Frank, but he couldn't help but wonder why today was the day he decided to tell, or show Gerard that.

"Do you remember when I told you about running away?" Frank finally asked, absent-mindedly staring at the ceiling. He could see Gerard nodding from the side of his eye as he continued to speak. "I'm ready to tell you, Gee," Frank said, holding his arm firmly. "But…are you still up for the park offer?"

"Any time, Frankie," Gerard happily said, carrying him off the bed. "You don't have to tell me now if you really don't want to."

"I want to, Gerard," Frank insisted as Gerard lifted him from the bed. "I owe it to you."

"No, you don't—''

"Yes, I do," Frank said. "It's been on my mind the last couple of weeks since we've made it official, and because of that I've been acting weird." Gerard raised an eyebrow. "Okay. I've been acting weirder than _normal_. You happy?" he joked with Gerard, and Gerard smiled as he set Frank down.

"I'm serious," Frank continued again, running off into the closet to look for some shoes. "I've been a sucky boyfriend so far."

"No you haven't," Gerard protested, and he heard Frank's muffled response.

"You're a guy, Gerard," he said. "I know what you want, trust me." Although Frank was 100% right, he still felt bad that it was all true, and he felt shallow.

"I—''

"I'm just kidding, Gee," Frank giggled, coming out of the closet with some sneakers on. Gerard gave an 'Oh' expression and made Frank giggle even more. Gerard timidly grabbed his wallet as he went to the front door and opened it.

"So, uh…is the park option still okay?" he asked, and Frank smiled, exiting the room.

But before Frank left, he went on his tip-toes and whispered in his ear, "But, I'm sure that you know what I want, too, Gee," as he exited the room with a shocked and surprised Gerard behind him.


	25. Out of The Bag

"So not _everything _is as dirty as the lake," Frank noted as he and Gerard strolled around the park. It was fall time now and the leaves had started to fall off the trees, creating a fiery collage of colors on the ground. Gerard quietly smiled at his comment and kicked a few leaves on the ground, not sure what to say. Frank had said he'd wanted to talk to him, but for the past ten minutes that they were there Frank hadn't said a thing. Gerard kept peeking at Frank, but Frank seemed caught up in his own thoughts. He was back to his old attitude, Gerard figured, slowing down to catch up with Frank's slower pace.

"Frank?"

"Hm?" he asked, looking up at his boyfriend.

"I…I have a feeling I know what you are thinking about now, and if it really bothers you, I wanted you to be reminded that I can and will wait," Gerard informed him, and Frank shook his head.

"I'm telling you, Gerard. End of story," Frank said, smiling as he gripped his arm. "It's just—'' Frank stopped talking and walking abruptly, holding Gerard back with him. Frank seemed to be listening for something.

"What's wron—''

"Shh," Frank urged him, looking around and straining his ears. "I hear the ice cream truck."

"Ice cream?" Gerard asked, and Frank nodded. "You want ice cream now? In the middle of October?"

"No," Frank whispered, slowly inching forward towards the sound of the truck. "I want Skittles."

"Skittles?" Gerard asked unbelievably.

"Skittles," Frank replied, as if it was obvious that the main purpose of ice cream trucks was that they held skittles. "Don't you know that?" he asked, squinting his eyes at the truck in front of them. It took him a while, but he soon realized the truck.

"I've never really tried—''

"Truck!" Frank gleefully said as he interrupted Gerard, running down to the truck and urging the driver to stop. He held a dollar and waved it in front of him, asking, "You got any candy?!" Gerard stayed behind, laughing at how important the Skittles seemed to be to Frank.

There was a moment of exchange between the two of them and Frank came back empty handed, dollar scrunched in his hand.

"I take it there were no Skittles?" Gerard asked his pouting boyfriend, and Frank shook his head.

"They only have the really jumbo ones," he sadly explained. "And those are $1.50. I only had a dollar."

"I have change," Gerard said, digging into his pocket. Frank tried to stop him but was unsuccessful.

"Gerard, you don't need to—''

"Shh, Frank," Gerard said. "You want the Skittles, right?" Frank didn't answer, but Gerard already knew the answer. He took Frank's hands in his own and grabbed the dollar away and made a break for the truck, Frank running behind him. By the time Frank caught up with him, Gerard had already bought the jumbo-sized bag, and the truck was pulling away with Gerard waving 'bye' behind it.

"Here you go, Frankie," Gerard calmly said as he handed the bag to Frank, who stood beside him panting.

"That…wasn't…fair, Gee," he said between set breaths, but he accepted the bag full of candy and opened it. "But thank you. I haven't had these for such a long time." He took a few and put them in his mouth, his breathing still irregular.

"Are you okay?" Gerard asked, patting Frank's back. Frank nodded, walking over to a nearby bench. Gerard followed closely behind him.

"I'm fine," Frank assured him. "I have my skittles now," he playfully added as Gerard sat next to him. Gerard smiled and Frank put a reassuring hand on his thigh as his breathing returned to normal. "Thank you, again. I'll pay you back."

"No need to," Gerard said. "You already have."

"I have?" Frank asked, raising a brow.

"You have," Gerard repeated as a puzzling look crossed Frank's face. "You're my boyfriend, aren't you?" he explained later, and Frank lightly shoved him in response.

"Shut up," he joked, pretending to choke on his candy. "That doesn't count for anything." Gerard gave a small shrug and Frank ate some more skittles in silence, glowing inside from Gerard's nice comment. It was a sweet thing to hear from a twenty-two year old about him of all people.

Gerard sat there watching Frank devour the candy. There was no doubt that Frank would be hyper later today. But he didn't mind a hyper Frank.

"You want one?" Frank asked, bringing Gerard back. Gerard shook his head.

"No, thank you."

"Aww. No?" Frank asked, trying to stick one in Gerard's mouth. Gerard shook his head, chuckling.

"Like I was saying before you bolted down here, I've never had any," Gerard admitted, and a look of disbelief crossed Frank's face. He held them out to Gerard and held them as if they were ancient shrines, like offerings to the gods.

"Take," Frank urged. "Eat."

"Nah, it's okay," Gerard said to him, shaking his head. "Besides, you seem to love them. I'd rather you eat it now and not waste it, instead of giving some to me, who probably will waste it."

Frank retreated, but then started placing the skittles carefully on his tongue as he stuck it out. He watched confidently as Gerard seemed to squirm in his seat, his eyes now focused on the candy that sat on Frank's tongue. Frank sensed Gerard's new sparked interest and he smugly raised an eyebrow as if to ask, 'How about now?'

Gerard leaned in, gently cradling Frank's chin as he slipped his tongue inside Frank's mouth. The two of them kissed, their tongues fighting for dominance as the sweet obstacles swirled in the mouths. Frank savored the sweet taste of Gerard and the rock candy in his mouth as Gerard began to tug on Frank's shirt with his free hand and repositioned his other hand to be entangled in Frank's hair. Frank moaned into the kiss as he pulled Gerard closer to him, shifting his position on the bench to accommodate for more space for the two of them. But in the process, he knocked over the bag of Skittles, causing them to disperse. Gerard didn't notice, though, when Frank's moan turned into a groan. He slowly pulled away to see Frank's disappointed face.

"Wh-what happened?" Gerard asked nervously, biting the candy that was now in his mouth. "Did I do something wrong?" Frank shook his head and embarrassedly bit his lip, motioning to the bag of candy on the floor. Gerard gave a relieved chuckle and told him not to worry, but Frank wouldn't have it.

"Now I definitely owe you," he said to himself, chuckling as well.

Gerard held him by the shoulder and looked into Frank's eyes, sincerely saying, "You've paid for that already by kissing me."

"That doesn't count—what are you eating?" Frank asked, observing Gerard's jaw movement. Gerard sheepishly shrugged.

"They don't taste that bad," he meekly said, reaching for the fallen bag. He took a couple more that had been saved and plopped some in his mouth, no longer hiding his favor of them. Frank grinned at Gerard's consumption, shaking his head.

"It's a contagious disease. It spreads," he joked, and Gerard chuckled.

"So when'd you get addicted?" Gerard asked, handing the rest of the bag to Frank. Frank took it and peeked inside, gasping at how much Skittles were still left over.

"Middle school, I guess," Frank concluded, holding on to the bag. "I think…"

A silence hung in the air as Gerard thought about Frank's age again. He couldn't help it. The term 'middle school' brought to his mind the fact that he must've been around 10 or 11 years old. And Frank was not too far away from middle school either. High school wasn't too far, was it? Frank sat across from Gerard, watching his expressions change.

"How old are you again?" Gerard asked, and Frank rolled his eyes.

"I'm seventeen," he reported. "Seventeen, Gee. But don't get too hooked on that number." He smiled coyly at him and Gerard smiled back, shrugging it off. Maybe Frank was just getting hyper now. He didn't see any reason for him not to remember, unless Frank's birthday was coming up soon. But he didn't think that was the case because Frank would have said something. At least, he thought Frank would have. But the only thing Frank kept bringing up was 'Halloween.'

"You know you were supposed to start senior year?" Gerard asked, and Frank nodded nonchalantly at him. "Were you looking forward to it?"

"God, no," he snickered. "And get beat up again?"

"The people who beat you up probably aren't there anymore," Gerard suggested, but Frank still refused. "I feel bad for taking away your senior year experience from you."

"Don't bother," Frank said, bringing his head to Gerard's chest. "I still hate school now. Nothing's gonna change that." Gerard welcomed his head on his chest and started rubbing Frank's back as he started to reflect on his high school years.

"My high school years weren't that great either," Gerard admitted to Frank. "That's when I realized I was bi."

"Bi?" Frank asked, shifting his position. "What happened? Does that have anything to do with why you and Mikey…?"

"Live in that shit hole? Yeah," Gerard chuckled, but his chuckling ceased as soon as last night's conversation came back into memory. It wasn't funny. Mikey had given up so much to provide for the both of them, and he repaid him with a slap in the face.

"My parents had no idea I was into guys, but my brother did," Gerard said, continuing to rub Frank's back. Frank listened attentively to every word coming out of Gerard's mouth because he was barely audible. He knew this was a touchy subject for Gerard, but to hear him still talk about it touched Frank, giving him more courage to decide that he wouldn't try to postpone telling him about Pete.

"Mikey's always been there for me," Gerard said, staring absentmindedly at the trees inside the park down the street. "Such a good brother…he's all I got. Besides you of course." Frank smiled at his obvious flattery and started rubbing Gerard's arm, encouraging him to go on.

"He didn't freak out when he found out about it, but my parents were another story," he whispered. "I would come home late with hickies and shit on me, y'know? Before they found out I was bi, my parents would just scold me and tell me to use protection. But after, they started calling me all these horrible names. Well, they weren't horrible, I guess. If you're acting like a bitch, figuratively, you can't get too mad for someone calling you out for what you are." Frank nodded and grunted understandingly.

"Don't get me wrong; I wasn't a bitch," Gerard laughed. "I'm just using that as an example."

'Sure,' Frank was tempted to joke, but he bit his tongue. What if Gerard was? He would have totally insulted him. Although he just said he was using it as an example, it would be safer not to say anything.

"But…I don't know if you would know of such a thing," Gerard joked with Frank, taking a jab at his supposed 'innocence' and 'purity.' "But they were calling me things that a parent shouldn't be, like 'cock-sucker' or 'pussy'…I dunno. Now that I say that and look back on it, it seems pretty stupid to feel hurt over. But it hurt a lot back then. It hurt a whole _fucking _lot.

"And then they went on to spreading the news down to their friends as their jokes and conversation starters about their 'gay' son. I didn't think people that cared about you were supposed to do that. Mikey never did," Gerard said, his voice quieting down. Frank gripped Gerard tighter and he continued.

"What pushed them over the roof was when they saw me make out with a boy." Gerard stopped, debating over whether or not to say anything about what the boy's name was, but he decided not to. That would lead him into Pete's role in his life then, and his role in his life now.

"We had just had sex, and we were 'cooling off' or whatever the hell people want to call that awkward moment afterwards…it was my first time. I skipped school, so I would be alone. Mikey was at school and my parents were supposed to be at work." Frank heard Gerard scoff at his past actions. "I was so stupid. But it was too late. My parents came in because they probably figured something was 'off,' and that I had skipped school because that wasn't a new thing. But I guess they were expecting to see a girl in my bed rather than a guy. So they came and kicked us out," Gerard said, watching Frank, who was sucked deeply into his story.

"They kicked me and him out," Gerard continued. "The guy left, but I stayed outside the house because I had no where else to go. Two hours they opened it and took me back in, but only until I finished the rest of senior year. They didn't even come to my graduation. I guess I wasn't that important to them, but more of a disgrace. But Mikey came." Frank could hear the smile in Gerard's voice, but it disappeared when he spoke about how they came about with the home.

"Mikey was the one who actually let me know. He told me that he had found a place for me to stay, and that we would be living together. I asked him, 'What do you mean 'we'? Did you get kicked out, too?' And he told me that he was going to stay with me through this until everything worked out, because he knew I'd do the same for him. So he didn't finish his high school either. Instead, he got a job, and I found one, too." Gerard paused again, debating whether or not he should say anything about his 'periodic job.'

He hadn't really seen it as a job, because he had been introduced to Pete by his then-boyfriend, and he and Pete had been friends. They had been really close friends. Well, sexually anyway, which was why he never introduced him to Mikey, and that was why Pete only knew him by his middle name 'Arthur.' He hadn't wanted to torture his brother with images.

There was this one time that Pete wanted to be kinky and added money and everything to it. From there he came up with this whole 'business' idea, and Gerard realized Pete had a whole lot of 'friends,' which meant that all their time together meant nothing. But he couldn't do anything about it, because he had then become dependent on his money now.

So he had stopped going to Pete as much as possible, only going when he needed the money. Pete's 'business' seemed to be blooming. He even started boasting that he was planning on recruiting a minor into the business. Some kid who would probably do it willingly because he got beat up in school constantly and his parents barely paid any attention to him anyway. "That's why I got in his pants so easy," he'd said.

Now that Gerard thought heavily about it, Frank would fit that description pretty well. But there was no way his innocent Frankie would ever get caught up in a mess like that. Although, Pete constantly mentioned how much more money he'd be making once he got the kid to join.

"Gee?" Frank's small voice called out, and Gerard looked down to see Frank nervously biting his nails. He had stopped rubbing Gerard's arm and had started biting his fingers instead, sensing that his turn was coming up. If he ever wanted to bring Pete up, now was the time, especially after Gerard just poured out his whole life story to him.

"Hm?" Gerard asked, continuing to rub Frank's back and coaxing him to continue. But his mind began to wander. What if that was it? Frank had said he had a terrible thing to tell him. It was something that had been eating at him since day one. The thing that drove him to ask Gerard to take him away was about that thing that was eating him up. _Not everything has to revolve around Pete, or your miserable experiences_, Gerard thought, while shaking himself from the mindset as he diverted his attention to Frank's fearful eyes.

"I…I just wanted…I don't know how to say it…there's no easy way to just spit this out," Frank said, becoming frustrated with himself. Tears sprung to his eyes as he thought of Pete and Gerard in his dream, and of the possibility that Gerard might leave him after this. Gerard was still intent with thinking Frank was innocent. How disappointed would he be when he realized that wasn't true at all? "I…The reason why I asked you to take me was because…"

Possible ideas started running through Gerard's head once more, like maybe Frank ran away from home because of school and getting beat up. Or maybe his parents were catching on and figuring out that he was gay, and he didn't want that. Or maybe Frank liked him a whole lot and just wanted to leave. But that didn't make much sense. Who would throw their life away for a stranger and some strange attraction? Frank was definitely running away from something.

But what? Maybe…_Maybe his father was molesting him! Taking advantage of his son, right? That would work…_ Gerard thought, racking his brain for more possibilities. But he never would have guessed what Frank had said a few moments later.

"Well," Frank said next, bringing his teary eyes to meet Gerard's expectant and waiting ones. "His name's…" Frank took a gulp before he continued, Gerard rubbing his arm to encourage him to go on.

Frank let out a sob. Gerard was about to tell Frank that he didn't have to say anything, but then Frank took a deep breath and leveled his eyes with Gerard's saying boldly, "H-His name's Pete."


	26. It's A Small World Afterall

**It's A Small World After-All**

"Pete?" Mr. Iero asked, stepping out into the hall. Today had been a busy day, and he really needed Tina to make a few calls for him. But she was nowhere in sight. Wherever Pete was, she was sure to follow, Mr. Iero learned quickly, taking a break from his day as he sat in her seat. He took a look around the desk and found it very cluttered. There was no way she could ever set something down and find it again.

He started to arrange a few of the papers before he came across the message-filled answering machine. Where the hell was Tina anyway? It's not like he let her out on break. And by the looks of the numerous messages on the machine, he doubted she had free time on her hands anyway.

He have an annoyed sigh as he pressed the button for the messages to play. This was what he was paying her to do.

_"Hello...? Is this the Iero household...? Well, this is still Mary from Frank's school, and I just wanted to let you know that we will kick him out if we don't get a response by tomorrow, the 20th. Thank you for your time."_

"What?" Mr. Iero asked in disbelief. Frank not in school? How could this be? In another attempt to prove himself wrong, he played the next message.

_"Hello again. This is Mary Schnidtz and I'm Frank's counselor. He, um...I called yesterday. I would just like to know if he's enrolled because it's been a month now—"_

"Hello, this is Mary—"

"Hello, this is Mrs. Schnidtz speaking—"

"Hi. My name is Mary, and I'm Frank's counselor. Um, I don't know if you are aware, but Frank hasn't been in school for the past couple of weeks. I don't know if you are also aware that school started a couple of weeks ago. I'm calling because this is very weird for a child like yours. He's always at school on time. I'm sure you've just forgotten, but I would like to remind you that if he misses a certain amount of days then he'll be forced to take summer school to make up for the time. And if he doesn't show up, then he'll be taken off of the graduating class. So...I just wanted to let you know. Thanks for your time."

Beep.

So Frank hadn't been in school, Mr. Iero realized, fear seizing him. If he hadn't been in school, where the hell was he? Where the hell was he now?

"TINA!" He bellowed, angry for her failure to alert him on this. His son was already anti social. His education was his only other outlet.

His anger grew as he heard Tina's lazy shuffle down the stairs echo through the building. How could he not have noticed his son's absence? Well, now that he thought about it, he never did. Work was getting so busy for him. Which was why he went ahead and let Pete come into this household to be with Frank. As much as Mr. Iero hated to admit it, that Pete boy was around Frank more than he ever was. And just for the hell of it, he let Pete's girlfriend take a job here. It was the least he could do. And now, Pete was failing him. Frank was missing out on school?

"Yeah?" Tina shouted back. "Calm your shit, Petey. I'm comin'..." Mr. Iero held back a chuckle. Did she think he was Pete? Why the hell would Pete be here now anyway? Wasn't he with Frank? Where was Frank?

"Oh," Tina said, surprised at who she faced at the door. "Mr. Iero..."

"Hey, Tina," Mr. Iero said, a bit too calmly. Tina silently cursed at herself for her earlier reply. She had spoken to him as if he'd been Pete. Oops. She regained her posture and figured out that now was no time for play. She quickly made her way to her seat and fixed up her things, knocking over the mug that held her pens and pencils.

In the crossfire, she accidentally hit the 'play' button on the answering machine and Mary's voice echoed throughout the house.

_"Hello...? Is this the Iero household...? Well, this is still Mary from Frank's school, and I just wanted to let you know that we will kick him out if we don't get a response by tomorrow, the 20th. Thank you for your—"_

_Shitttt_. Tina cursed inwardly towards herself at her clumsiness and hit the 'Pause' button. After the humiliating experience, she lifted her eyes to meet Mr. Iero's threatening ones.

"I take it you know where Frank is?"  


* * *

"Pete?' Gerard asked, his hands and palms getting sweaty from Frank's accusation. No way. This must've been another Pete, because the Pete Gerard knew was Frank's exact opposite. Well, the haircut he'd just given him wasn't on his side right now, but there was no way those two could be linked. Pete was nastier, dirtier, and fouler than Frank could ever be.

Frank gave another sob as he shamefully nodded his head, trying to bury himself in Gerard's chest. Gerard openly welcomed him and tried to comfort his crying boyfriend, who kept sniffling, "Pete W-wen…Wen…"

Gerard wasn't sure if Frank was trying to tell him the guy's last name, or that the guy 'went' somewhere. But he would be shocked even more if the guy was who he thought he was.

Frank himself couldn't bring himself to say Pete's whole name. He felt sick uttering the name aloud. He wanted to throw up. He was ashamed and embarrassed at what he was about to reveal, and he retreated and sobbed some more, feeling sorry for himself.

But that wasn't right, because Gerard was there waiting for him to speak. Taking another sob to collect himself, he lifted his eyes to meet Gerard's. His tears ran down his cheeks and snot ran down his nose as he tried to open his mouth, but only his sobs escaped. Gerard tried to comfort him again and Frank angrily shoved himself away from his welcoming embrace. Frank earned a shocked gasp from Gerard and he rose from Gerard's lap, standing a few feet away from Gerard instead of lying with him. Gerard looked at Frank sympathetically and Frank sniffled.

"He's the reason why we're here," Frank whispered, before hiccuping. "I wanted you to take me because I'm tired."

"Tired of what, baby?" Gerard asked, raising from his seat. Frank shook his head, ashamed of himself.

"I'm tired of it all," he whispered to himself, another tear making its way down his face. He didn't think it would have been this hard. All he had to do was spit it out. But he couldn't.  
_  
"Pete has been taking advantage of me from day one. You know I was teased and beat up everyday at school, right? And my parents were always out, or they were too busy...and then Pete came along with his girlfriend Tina. I thought they were really nice people, you know? No one had ever spoken to me on their own will before. And I met them while I was taking a stroll on the block...they waved at me, and I waved back. And I went out every week and they were there, waiting to wave at me. And I'd wave back._

"But waving wasn't enough. And soon, they invited me over, so I went. So yeah, I lied when you asked me if I ever went to a friend's house. But then again, he wasn't really a friend. I was just predictable enough for him to use to his advantage. Tina had gone out that night and he...he touched me. He did things to me that I...I asked him to stop, but he wouldn't. He raped me, but I felt that I was so low that I should have thanked him for it, and I did. He was right. He said I shouldn't ever be mad at him because...I had told him about not being sure of my sexual preference, so he did...that. And the whole point, he had said, was to see if he could manage with me for a while. I don't know what that means, but he said he was considering me for something. I thought that meant he'd get rid of me quick, and he was the only friend I'd made, so I kept quiet. I mean, I always knew I had a problem getting girls to even look my way. Guys were the only option I had left. And even though I wouldn't have picked him out as the most eligible, he was the best I was going to ever have. At least, that's what I told myself.

"For the next three years, Pete had his way with me. Why stop going over, you may ask? Well the fact is, Gerard, that I was so deep in the shit that I believed Pete when he told me he cared for me, and that if I got Tina the job, then we'd see each other more frequently. So I got Tina the job, and he came over frequently, like he promised. And day after day, I'd go to him with my problems and we'd have sex. That was all it ever was. And I...It was missing something, I felt. He didn't care for me like I was led to believe.

"And then you showed up, Gerard. You showed up and I saw how stupid I was being. Pete saw, too, which was why he was able to get you fired in an attempt to keep me away from you. And then...and then you came back. It was a sign for me to go with you. You've shown me that you care about me without having sex with me, which was the thing Pete couldn't live without (not me, the sex in general). You were able to get me to smile in my darkest moments. Your voice makes me happy. Seeing you smile makes me smile. Seeing you cry makes me cry.

"You tried your hardest to make me happy during the few moments you knew me, and I was scared to give into you at first. But I did. I've fallen so fucking hard for you, and I don't want this to mess up. I don't want Pete back in my life because I fear I may kill him if I'm trapped with him again. I don't want to send you back because you'll get arrested. I don't want to go back because I'll be pulled away from you. You've risked so much for a stranger...a kid, in fact. A troublesome unbalanced emotional kid. The least I can do is tell you the reason why this stupid kid has just screwed up your life."

Of course, Frank said none of this and ran his hands through his hair roughly, trying to get his hair tangled. He tried once more but failed and instead, he angrily shouted at himself. Why couldn't he just say it? _Just. Say. It._ he told himself again as he had a firm death-grip on his hair. When he didn't bring himself to say it, he began to yank violently. Gerard rose immediately, trying to stop Frank from pulling his hair out.

"Frankie, it's okay," Gerard said soothingly, trying to calm him as he engulfed Frank in a hug. Frank kept trying to continue, but Gerard took a hold of his arm, causing Frank to cease his attempts. He cried on Gerard's shoulder before he finally tired out and sniffled something on Gerard's chest.

"I'm not innocent," he incoherently mumbled, referring to Pete. Gerard shook his head in protest.

"Is that what this is about?" he cooed, rubbing his back. "Don't worry about that, Frankie."

"You don't understand, Gee," Frank said, his voice pleading for Gerard to get him with as little words as possible. He looked up to capture Gerard's eyes and he lightly tugged at his shirt for urgency. He opened his mouth and tried again one more time. "I haven't been innocent since the time Pete came..."

So this 'Pete' guy...he had supposedly ruined Frank's innocence, Gerard concluded. For once, Gerard was speechless and had absolutely no idea what to say or do. He felt like he was being split. Part of him wanted to slaughter the fucker who messed with Frank like this. Another part of him wanted to console Frank and show Frank that he understood.

And lastly and more importantly, another part wished that Frank hadn't told him. It's not that he didn't care. He did, and that was the problem. It was his Pete was the one he was envisioning with Frank, and that was a horrible combo, although, if it had been that Pete, he could understand and sympathize with Frank even more. Not only that, but if Gerard knew the Pete that Frank was talking about, he was sure he would go back home just so he could find Pete and attempt to beat the shit out of him.

"I've never been with anyone else," Frank continued quietly, waiting for Gerard's response. Gerard said nothing, so Frank went on. "I wasn't even sure I was gay, but it just happened. I told him to stop, he didn't, end of story."

"So," Gerard finally said, rubbing Frank's arm. "Are you sure you're even gay? I feel like you've been pressured into it—''

"I'm gay, Gee," Frank said, resting his head on his chest. "No two ways about it."

"Hmm," he said, before returning to the silence.

The silence was killing Frank. He had just admitted it all to Gerard, and he wasn't reacting in any particular way. Maybe it wasn't as much of a big deal as Frank had thought. Even if it was, Frank convinced himself, what would Gerard be able to do now anyway? There was no point in bringing it up.  
_  
Yes, there was,_ a voice in his head reminded him. _Tell him why his life is screwed._

Gerard sat there, feeling like the shittiest boyfriend in the world. His boyfriend had just admitted his deepest fears and all he could do was say, "Hmm." What the hell was that?

But he couldn't believe this. Surely he should have noticed, right?

He couldn't think of anything to say or do. It seemed like all Frank wanted was to curl up beside him, as if it gave him comfort. Gerard never felt so useless and powerless in his whole life.

"Um, Gerard?" a tiny voice called, bringing him back to the little boy that was now clinging on to him.

"Hm?" he gingerly asked, patting his head and still in thought.

"I have...something more to tell you," Frank started, but to his surprise, Gerard interrupted him.

"I...I wasn't completely honest when I told you everything," Gerard admitted, holding Frank closer. A puzzled look crossed Frank's face, and Gerard told him to continue. "Go ahead," he told him, explaining, "I'll go after you."

"Well, I wanted to tell you the actual reason why I asked you to take me," Frank said, and Gerard nodded. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I don't really know how to say this, but...this guy, Pete, was...taking advantage of me...and I started realizing and fighting back ever since I met you..."

Gerard looked down to see Frank's ears and cheeks had become really red, and that his eyes were open but they seemed to look glazed over. He was avoiding eye contact with him, and it hurt him a bit. Was he that un-appealing? Could Frank sense his hopelessness?

"...And he got upset and came up with that rape story to get you fired," Frank quickly finished, burying his head in Gerard's chest. "And I thought I could get rid of everything and him if I ran away to you, but it's just gotten worse. He calls you nonstop because of me. I...don't get mad at me," Frank pleaded. "Because, I looked at your phone one morning and saw his number in your phone."

Gerard's eyes widened. All those days his cell phone had been misplaced made sense now. Frank had been looking through it.

"T-The number that calls you nonstop? The guy you say is your 'boss'?" Frank tried again. "I put it in my phone and I got Pete's number. I'm scared that he knows who you are."

"That...that actually leads me to what I forgot to tell you, Frankie," Gerard said, taking a gulp. If he had figured everything out correctly, he had just spent three years and plus sleeping with the guy that was breaking Frank into tiny bits and pieces until he didn't exist anymore. There was no way Frank would accept him with open arms now.

"What?" Frank apprehensively asked, lifting his head warily.

"I...There's no need for you to be scared that he knows me," Gerard said, trying to push it off as nothing important.

"What do you mean by that?" Frank asked, his voice rising an octave.

"Because," Gerard said, briefly holding his eyes with Frank's already apprehensive ones. "I think I know who Pete is, too."


	27. Misunderstood

**Misunderstood**

"You-You what?" Frank asked, backing away slightly.

Gerard took a gulp before he continued speaking again. Just to play it safe, he couldn't tell Frank everything, because if it was the same Pete, it would be devastating for Frank to learn that, too. It would crush him.

"I know a Pete, too," he said, deciding to paraphrase his earlier statement. "He was a, uh…partner…from work…the guy that calls..."

"Oh," Frank mumbled, brushing aside Gerard's half-confession. He buried his head into Gerard's chest again, his sniffling starting to reside. It didn't feel right to Gerard, though. Frank had just revealed to him his deepest and darkest secret, and he was lying about his. Even if he wasn't completely lying, he was hiding something. With another thought, he began to rub Frank's back as he opened his mouth again.

"That's…that's not all," Gerard said quietly as he rubbed Frank's back. Frank waited for Gerard to continue, and he timidly did. "Frank, I've…"  
_  
Been prostituting_ , he was about to say. But it sounded so dirty. He was feeling pretty uncomfortable in his skin right now. And to know the possibility that Pete must have committed some of the most heinous acts with Frank made him feel sick. Whether he liked it or not, he had played a role in Pete and Frank's…'relations'…Sweat formed on his brow.

What about all of the days he has called last minute and canceled? Had Frank been punished because of him? _No wonder Pete never seemed too fazed out by his last minute cancellations!_ And it would also go on to explain why Pete was so upset with Frank's absence now…

…Because Frank wasn't there for him to act out on and abuse.

"Frankie," Gerard started, staring into Frank's eyes. Frank held the gaze and silently pleaded for his boyfriend to release whatever was bothering him.

"You'll…probably think less of me than what I already am, but I've…" Gerard took a break, trying to force himself to continue. "Before I met you, I was prostituting," he finally admitted, biting his lip in anticipation.

Frank's eyes reflected that of pure shock and confusion. Gerard? Prostituting? How could that be? As a reflex, he began to rub Gerard's chest soothingly. He knew Gerard was worried about his reaction, and the last thing he needed to do was make Gerard worry. The important thing was that Gerard came clean with him, and it was his job to nurture him back.

"How could you do that to yourself, Gee?" Frank asked, giving him a hug. "You're too beautiful for that," he murmured along his neck, rubbing Gerard's arm in a circular motion. There was no way whoever was pimping Gerard even paid Gerard a fraction of what he was worth, because Gerard was truly priceless.

Gerard just sat and numbly nodded, not fully absorbing all that his boyfriend had said. He felt like a scumbag. If Frank ever found out who he worked for, Frank would jump right off him. But then again, and hopefully, Frank would avoid asking that question.

"You didn't keep doing it after you met me, did you?" Frank asked, his huge eyes peering into Gerard's. There was no need for Gerard to answer him verbally; his eyes said it all. Frank gasped, but it wasn't from disgust or contempt.

It was more from hurt.

"Why, baby?" he asked, tears coming to his eyes. "If it was money, Gee, you should've asked me…"

Gerard shook his head defiantly. "You know I don't like taking money from you," he replied, trying to ease the burden Frank was putting on himself. There was no way he was going to let Frank take blame for _his _actions. "I'm okay, Frankie. And besides, I had just met you. It would've been like asking a stranger."

"I pushed you away, didn't I?" Frank quickly asked as he about to sob. "I shouldn't have been a bitch the first time," he rambled on and he gave a sniffle. Gerard planted an innocent kiss on his nose and rubbed his shoulder.

"I'm just happy you're not running in the other direction," Gerard softly said, resigning to nuzzling into the crook of Frank's neck. He took in the much needed and relaxing scent of his boyfriend into his nostrils, immediately relaxing. He wished Frank would do the same, but it was becoming apparent that Frank was nowhere near relaxed.

"I'm sorry, Gee," Frank said. "I'm so sorry," he apologized repeatedly, planting kisses along Gerard's jaw-line as if it was his fault. Of course, it was. There was an abundant amount of money at Frank's control, and that was no secret. So that meant that the only reason Gerard hadn't come to him was because something must've been wrong with him. He had obviously been sending Gerard the wrong message which, in turn, made Gerard sell his body. _His beautiful and perfect body…  
_  
The thought that some cheap guy out there got somebody that was way out of their league angered him. He had let Gerard be abused, and he directed his anger at himself while he lovingly continued to kiss Gerard, these thoughts swirling in his head during the process.

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he couldn't actually blame Gerard for any of it. In fact, he couldn't and wouldn't blame Gerard if he still did it now, for the sex Frank was restricting him from having. As his mind went back, he could pick out small occurrences when Gerard seemed pretty willing to have sex while he had brushed it off. He had been such a bad boyfriend, he realized. He was surprised that Gerard was still with him. Or was it because he was now stuck? As he found himself drowning in his thoughts, Frank mentally slapped himself.

Shouldn't he have learned anything during all his time with Pete? He was supposed to be pleasing Gerard, not crying and worrying over everything, like the fucking pansy he was.

"Don't do that to yourself," Frank murmured, directing Gerard's face so that they were staring right at each other. He made his way to Gerard's mouth and began to lightly nibble at Gerard's bottom lip. He tried to change his position to become more comfortable on top of his boyfriend. In the process, their crotches rubbed against each other's, Frank's already on the path to becoming a boner.

Gerard shifted uncomfortably, beginning to put the two and two together of why Frank used to always throw himself at him, and was doing so currently. It was all Frank knew. For him, it was a possible answer, a solution. Gerard wanted to show him that he didn't have to be diminished to that alone. He was worth so much more than that.

Frank emitted a quiet moan when Gerard's crotch rode against his as he parted his mouth to kiss Gerard fully on the mouth again. They began the kiss, but Frank's movements against Gerard were arousing him and Gerard was reminded of what he had wanted to do. Slowly, his hands came up behind Frank's back to pull him away, but as Frank felt Gerard's arms move, he quickly leaned into the kiss, gripping Gerard's body tightly. It only made it more difficult for Gerard to pull him off, but he eventually did, lightly tugging Frank back. Frank allowed himself to be pulled back, a bit dazed and confused by Gerard's behavior.

"_You _don't do this to yourself, Frankie," Gerard breathlessly pleaded, rubbing Frank's arms assuringly. Frank gave him a startled expression but he knew the message he was trying to convey was now clear in Frank's mind. The idea, though, seemed to be very new to Frank. Gerard watched as Frank began to unexpectedly go red and embarrassed. He figured that no one (Pete) had ever told him to _stop_, because Frank had now retreated from Gerard and created an awkward and foreign atmosphere around them. Gerard silently cursed himself for making the air around them more uncomfortable and unbearable.

Finally, Frank spoke. "I'm sorry," he immediately apologized, and Gerard tried to shrug it off. But the damage was done. Whatever Frank had wanted to do was not going to happen now. He was in no mood to talk. He'd probably spend the rest of the day apologizing.

"Yo-You wanna go now?" Frank timidly asked, quickly getting off of Gerard and already starting to head down the block. Gerard slowly got up and, to make matters worse, his cell vibrated. He cursed when he saw who is was, and Frank heard him. Turning around, Frank nodded over to the electronic piece in Gerard's hand.

"Pete?" he asked. "That guy?" Gerard nodded, putting the phone away. "Pete's your friend," Frank said, his eyes glistening.

Wait. Was Frank _crying_? Gerard had never meant to insult or offend him like that.

"Answer him," Frank continued, facing front again and continuing to slowly scuffle back 'home.' Gerard read the text Pete had sent and gave an angry sigh. It was just another one of Pete's empty threats.

Chucking it back in his pocket, he quickly tried to catch up to Frank. He had more important things to worry about than Pete. Frank needed him, and he needed to show Frank that he loved him and didn't mind caring for him. But Frank heard Gerard nearing him as he sniffled, and he sped up his pace. Gerard got the hint and begrudgingly resorted to silently following Frank, who had his head down the whole walk.

Frank angrily blinked away his tears, mad at himself for asking Gerard to kidnap him. He was mad at Gerard for going ahead and taking him. He was mad that Pete seemed to be and everlasting item in his life. Even when he was trying to avoid him, he came back.

He also couldn't believe Gerard had been prostituting, but he was happy that Gerard valued him enough to tell him that. But on the terms of his prostitution, Gerard was too good for that. A sickening thought flickered through his head, but he violently shook the image and possibility away.

Gerard would _never _have worked for Pete. Frank felt like he should have been punished even more for thinking so. Surely, if it were the same Pete, Gerard would have told him he thought so.

Another tear came to Frank's eye. That was another thing he was mad at: bringing Pete up in the first place. If he hadn't they wouldn't be here right now. And Frank wouldn't have tried to push himself on Gerard, who obviously didn't like what he was doing.  
_  
Way to fucking ruin a moment, Iero_ , Frank miserably thought to himself.

Frank shook his head in shame, letting out a stressed and angry sigh. Besides the last part with forcing himself on Gerard, everything was going pretty nice. They had both revealed their deepest secrets to each other. Had he not gone haywire and kissed Gerard, today would have been a pretty good day.

He could hear Gerard's footsteps behind him, now having a slow and steady pace. He was no longer trying to chase him, and Frank was okay with that. He deserved to be alone right now, away from Gerard. He was even lucky, he realized, that Gerard was bent on following him after he did such a thing to him. Gerard had trusted him, but he was unworthy, he had just proved, of Gerard's trust.

Frank angrily kicked a leaf as he made it to the backyard path of the motel. He quickly took out his keys and headed inside, closing the door behind him. He needed to sleep it all away. Maybe by the time he woke up, Gerard would be sleeping, so when Gerard wanted to avoid talking to him, it would be easier for Frank to adjust.

_Or, I could always not wake up,_ he pondered. But Frank decided not to do that. Regular sleeping should serve him fine. But that wouldn't be the case if Gerard held this up for long. He didn't know what he'd do if Gerard refused to talk to him.

Argh, why was he such a whore?  


* * *

Gerard stayed outside, upset with what he had caused. He should have just accepted Frank's kiss for what it was. It was the thought that mattered anyway, right? With what he told Frank, maybe Frank misinterpreted it and felt that Gerard was denouncing his thought behind it, which was not the case.

Gerard sighed, taking out his cell phone and looking at his text messages. He couldn't believe he had still kept the number one thing that was bothering him from Frank. But it was all for the best, he kept reminding himself.

Gerard silently sat on a bench in front of the motel lobby, going through his messages. He came across the message Pete had just sent, and re-reading it made him roll his eyes at Pete's immaturity.

_You'd better answer me for the sake of your bro. _Pete sent_. Cuz he's gonna get fucked up real bad._

Gerard knew as well as the next guy that Pete wouldn't dare try anything funny to get himself caught about his underground 'business.' But just for Pete's sake, he answered the text. Besides, Frank wasn't anywhere around now.


	28. Petey

**Petey**

Pete cursed as he heard Tina relay the news to him that Mr. Iero had found out Frank was actually missing school.

"So that's it?" he angrily asked. "You fucking told him?"

"Hey, I didn't tell him," Tina said. "It just [i]_happened_ ."

" 'It just happened' my [i]_ass_ ," Pete snapped as he gripped his phone. He entered a deli and made eye contact with the woman at the cash register. She faintly nodded back and proceeded to pick at her hot pink nails.

"Petey, I'm sorry, okay?" Tina said on the other end. "What has happened has already happened. Nothing you can do about it now. So come home and help me sort this shit out."

Pete gave an exhausted sigh, giving in. He was going to have to go back home to 'sort out the shit.' Muttering an 'alright, alright,' Pete shut his phone up and stopped walking to stand and ponder over it all at the 'Drinks' section.

He had to admit, he was pretty lucky to have gotten that far with Mr. Iero without him noticing anything. And by the way Tina told him, Mr. Iero still seemed to think that Frank was still around. He still hadn't connected Frank's school absences and home absences and put the two together yet, so he could still think of something. He was still kind of surprised that he was able to pull the wool over Mr. Iero's eyes for so long, but he had to have seen it coming. It only made sense that Frank's dad would figure out that something was wrong, and by luck, he had guessed correctly.

Pete snapped out of his daydream when he realized that the girl was staring at him. When he caught her, she gave a startled gasp and pretended to be busy picking at her nails again.

Tina was always messing up on him, Pete realized, returning his attention back to the milk cartons that lay in front of him. For starters, she had let Frank grow too close with his 'babysitter.' Now look where they were. And she also let Mr. Iero hear all those telephone messages. She was basically pointing everything out. What was she going to do next? Blurt out, "Pete's the one who's been raping Frank, not Gerard" ? When he had first gotten with Tina, she seemed capable of anything in his eyes. Well, not much, but still. He still viewed her as a human being. Now all she was to him was a sex tool. He even had more feelings about Frank than he did her. Even though he did horrible things to Frank and forced him many times, he was still kind of into him, in a twisted and perverted way. And precious Frank would not have gotten away had Tina been doing her job.

Pete looked up again, feeling a pair of eyes burning his back. When he looked back, lo and behold, that girl was watching him again. This time when their eyes met, she batted them flirtatiously. He smiled in response, his mind traveling back to Tina as he still held his phone in his hand.

Tina was going to be the reason why he went to jail if he didn't do something soon, he continued to think. He needed fresh blood to be circulated. He needed someone who would be scared as hell to mess up, someone who wouldn't question his every move. He had spoiled Tina that way, because she was the opposite sometimes. Even though most of the time she obeyed, he was tired of her. He didn't want her to argue back at all. Like Frank was before he met his 'savior' Gerard. Gerard of all people. Poor Frank thought that Gerard was innocent and pure, and that Gerard knew the answer to everything.

[i]_Well, Gerard_ doesn't, Pete wanted to yell at Frank. _Stay here, with me. Gerard doesn't know anything. He's not better than I am. You _ need _me_ ...

Or what was worse and quite scary to Pete, maybe _he_ needed _him_ .

_No_ , he thought, shrugging the idea aside. "Frank's just an easy fuck," he said aloud as he absentmindedly reached for a milk carton. He realized what he was doing after he held the carton in his hand for a moment and eventually returned it. The girl at the counter snickered.

"You okay?" she shyly asked, and Pete nodded.

"Just...a lot on my mind," Pete said honestly, and she nodded as if she understood.

She didn't understand, but Pete knew she was trying to be nice. No one could understand him. _He_ couldn't understand him. How could anyone else? Maybe a psychologist could, but then again, they were always full of crap.

_Frank had wanted to be a psychologist_ , Pete immediately thought before he could catch himself. He tried to stop himself, but his thoughts went back to Frank and he started feeling homesick. _Him_ of all fucking people. Over Frank. He wasn't supposed to be feeling anything. Where was all this emotion and feeling when Frank was here? Did they just develop? Why had he not noticed? Or was this just due to him freaking out about Mr. Iero's reaction?

_Well, absence makes the heart grow fonder_, a voice said in his head, and he shook it out. What the hell was wrong with him?! He had Tina for his sexual fantasies...didn't he? Maybe...maybe his _feelings_ were there, but he was applying it to Frank because of Tina's 'lack.' He definitely needed a new person. Look at what it was making him think! But you couldn't just pick up girls out of the blue...

You know, now that Pete was thinking about it, that counter girl seemed to be somewhat interested in him...

"Boyfriend issues?" she asked, leaning on the counter, and Pete blinked a couple times before he could answer her. What had he been thinking about? How much he was admittedly missing Frank...and Frank wasn't here because he was with...

"Gerard better open up his fucking mouth," Pete immediately muttered when the problem at hand came back to his head. He became consumed in his thoughts, completely ignoring the girl's question.

He knew this day would come, but he was not prepared for it in the slightest. What was he going to say? What was he going to do? Gerard was his only hope now, and hopefully he'd come out and give Frank back. Then he'd have to deal with Frank to make sure he never left again. But then again, if Gerard didn't cooperate there was always the sweet innocent little brother...

Pondering over his options, Pete flipped his phone open once more to give Gerard one last text.

You'd better answer me for the sake of your bro. Cuz he's gonna get fucked up real bad. Pete sent, oblivious to the girl's smirk. He soon started to smirk, pleased with his threatening message. He was going to get a reply from Gerard, he was sure of it. Whenever it came to his little brother, Gerard was so defensive.

The girl giggled, and Pete looked up in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"I take that as a 'yes'?" she asked, motioning to the phone. "Boyfriend?"

"What makes you say 'boyfriend'?" Pete quizzically asked, resting on the counter as well. "I don't look like I can fuck a girl?" The girl blushed and quickly shook her head, giggling at his statement instead of becoming repulsed by his language.

"You could," she said, looking at the window. "It's just...I heard you say something."

"What?" Pete asked again. Had he spoken aloud while he was drowning in his thoughts? When was this? What had he said? "I was talking out loud?"

"Yeah," she giggled. "You said something about a guy named Frank..."

Oh God. What had he said?

"...and that he was an easy one or something," she continued. "Or was his name Gerard?"

"I'm just...people I know," Pete said, dismissing them. "I could fuck a girl if I wanted to...I do ." Pete returned to the subject at hand, dismissing her notions

"Oh," she said, her voice faltering. "Girlfriend?"

"No, not really," Pete lied. "I just mean that I fuck girls, too."

"Well, just for the record, I fuck guys," she joked, laughing. Pete chuckled as well at her joke and she shyly smiled at him.

"I'm sorry for that," she said, apologizing. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way..."

"I don't mind at all," Pete said, inching closer to her. "By the way, I'm Peter."

"I'm Sara," she replied, playing with her hair. "Would..."

"Go ahead," Pete prodded her. "Would I...?"

"Could I call you 'Petey'?" she asked quietly, making Pete smile.

"Sure," he replied, thinking of how Frank used to call him that. It had been such a long time since he ever did. It had stopped though after he started raping him, but the name still brought a smile to his lips. Sara was a really timid girl, just the one he was looking for. She was doing a pretty good job of acting like Frank did so far, apologizing for every frickin' thing and that cute nickname. That was another thing he missed about Frank: his adorable nicknames.

Pete's mind traveled back to the last time Frank had called him Petey. It had been such a wonderful start to their current relationship. At least, Pete had thought so. He knew he had sort of been pushing it, but then again, he also knew that Frank was insecure enough to let him.

_

* * *

"You said so yourself," Pete said as he straddled a young and unsure Frank underneath him. "You don't know what you are." He had invited Frank over to his house today, hoping to get lucky. He had only told Frank, though, that he wanted to 'chill out' so Frank wouldn't hesitate about hanging out with him alone...in his house with only Pete by his side..._

"But...I'm only..." Frank struggled to speak as he felt Pete's tongue on his body. He gave a light gasp in response to Pete's actions. It wasn't right to be feeling this. Pete was almost five years older than him, already nineteen. But Pete didn't seem to care, and he didn't want to seem like a baby. But he couldn't help but ask Pete if this was normal.

"Is this...okay?"

"We kissed before, and you never said anything then," Pete sincerely pointed out, kissing Frank's cheek once more to make his point. Frank shuddered and closed his eyes as Pete began to dry hump him.

"It doesn't feel right," he quietly whispered, tears coming to his eyes. He was scared to death with what was happening. He didn't understand it, but his body was reacting well enough for Pete to do what he wanted to. He wasn't supposed to feel this way about a guy ,_ especially not Pete, who had just become his friend._

"You're turning fifteen next week," Pete said, clearly annoyed and cutting to the chase. Frank knew he had done something wrong right then, because Pete was always sweet to him. He tried to shut his mouth while Pete quit trying to rile Frank up and resorted to his key goal; a good fuck.

"It's an early fucking birthday present, okay?" he said, spreading Frank's legs apart. Frank was a bit unwilling, but Pete began to stroke his member and was able to separate Frank's legs with ease. Once he was open, Pete stuck his dry finger inside of Frank's entrance, making the young teen wince in pain and hold on to Pete for dear life. Pete ignored Frank's whimpering and tears, consumed with thoughts about how tight he was and how amazing this fuck was going to be.

"W-what about...Tina?" Frank gasped, clearly uncomfortable with his position and breaking the semi-vow that he had made to be quiet. He hated Pete's finger there. It fucking hurt like hell. He winced and groaned again as Pete stuck yet another _finger inside him. He could feel Pete's pre-ejaculatory fluids leak and he mistook them for the real deal, never having had sex before._

"I-Is this it?" Frank asked, silently pleading to him, " Please, _let this be it." He gave out an agonizing whimper as Pete tried to go deeper and Pete squeezed him._

"Petey? Can w-we s-s-stop?" Frank asked, in pure agony. If this was what it took to be gay, he'd be straight. No need to have Pete mess with him like this now. Besides, Pete had said that the whole reason he was doing this was because Frank had no idea what it was like, and he didn't know if he was gay or straight. Or even bi, for that matter. "I d-d-don't l-like it," he whimpered as he felt Pete's fingers slip out.

"Shh, you shit-head," Pete hissed, fed up with his complaining. Frank froze in fear of Pete's 'Jekel and Hyde' act. He'd never seen this side of Pete before.

Pete was done playing Mr. Nice-Guy, and he was going to show his true colors. This _was the reason why he'd been playing that role with Frank, and he'd be one angry mother-fucker if he didn't get it and Frank. "If I hear you open your mouth_ one more time , _I'll shove it in there. No mercy. You got that?" Frank's eyes widened in fear as the message registered and he nodded. There was no way Pete would do that...would he?_

Pete could see that Frank was definitely scared, so he was sure he wasn't going to open his mouth again. Satisfied with Frank's behavior, Pete continued with touching Frank's body, again trying to rile him up. He was going to 'shove it in there' anyway, regardless if Frank cooperated or not. There was no truth in his prior statement/offer. In fact, it was going to be more painful than Frank could ever imagine because Pete was going to take him dry. He knew it'd be better for him and worse off for Frank, but what did he care? Frank didn't even want this anyway. Why waste time on making _him_ _ feel good and not himself? Pete gave Frank a false reassuring smile and kiss on the cheek. Frank mimicked his action, giving Pete and soft kiss on_ his _cheek, his eyes reflecting the total trust he had in him._

Ha! Trust ,_ Pete laughed to himself. Frank was such an innocent little idiot. It was kind of cute. But, if Pete had his way today, which he was sure he was, Frank would just be a little idiot._

Slowly, after finding Frank's rear entrance again, Pete shoved himself inside. Only his head had prodded Frank's entrance when Frank yelped. Ignoring him, he went deeper and Frank was soon crying. Pete could see that it was hurting him so much, but he could also see stars. He hadn't even gone all the way yet, and it was pure bliss, just being able to foresee the wonderful future he had in store.

"Please, Petey," Frank moaned in fear. "I-It hurts...stop?"

Pete disregarded him and went even farther in Frank. Frank instinctively clenched his buttocks, urging Pete out. Instead, Pete relished that feeling while Frank screamed in pain.

Frank could scream all he wanted. No one was home. Maybe Tina was, but she was probably upstairs chatting away with one of her girlfriends. Besides, Tina was sorta into this kind of thing. He wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to join in. Why the hell else did he think Pete lured him here instead of going to Frank's place like he had been doing daily?

"The sooner you get used to it, the better," Pete happily moaned as Frank tried to fight back and resist. Of course, Pete won, and he began to pump himself forcefully into Frank. Frank was screaming all the while, pleading with Pete to stop. But Pete wasn't going to stop. He was having such a fucking amazing time, letting out so many incoherent mon

"I'm...gay, okay?" Frank tried to convince Pete between thrusts. Hopefully that would make him stop, since that was the point of all this; to figure out whether or not he was gay. But in all honesty, he couldn't ignore the fact that his body was responsive to Pete's touch. Pete's hands made their way down to his crotch and he had to admit that Pete's hands must have had experience. He couldn't help but groan. He wasn't supposed to feel this way about him, about this . _Pete was now rhythmically pounding him, but what was he going to do now? Maybe he'd just let it pass and it would be over. It wasn't hurting as much now, but it was just uncomfortable to feel Pete inside him._

"S-Stop, P-Pete," Frank groaned, holding on to Pete and trying to shove him off. "I—don't—want—it. Stop—Oh, _fuck_ _!" Frank whimpered, thinking that he had imagined that feeling when he felt it once more. Frank didn't know what the hell Pete just did, but he wanted him to do that _ again _. Pete chuckled as he saw Frank struggle with what he wanted to say. He knew he had just hit his prostate, and the thing Frank probably wanted the most in the world right now was for him to do it again._

"You still...want me...to...stop?" Pete grunted, already knowing the answer to that. Frank whimpered and nodded as Pete shoved deeper.

"Fucking talk _," Pete demanded, hitting Frank's sweet spot to make his point. Frank gave a groan and Pete could feel him relax against his attacks, becoming more welcome._

"Keep going," Frank pleaded Pete, just as he pulled out, only to make another forceful entry. "Just...don't stop. Please?" Frank managed to say before Pete pounded him again. Pete kept at this for four more thrusts before making Frank come and spill on his hand. Frank gave a moan as he spilled, pulling on to the sheets on the bed. Pete rode him a couple more times before his load poured in Frank, making Frank squirm in disgust.

He couldn't believe what he had just did, and what he had just said. He had trusted Pete with his worst fear, and Pete had just fed off on it.

"Fuck," he angrily sighed, trying to shove Pete off. Pete restrained him though, and simply answered him with, 'We just did.'

"That's the problem!" Frank shouted, losing his temper as his eyes watered in frustration.

"Watch it," Pete warned him, holding up a finger. He made sure Frank's eyes were leveled with his before he began to speak again. "You're lucky I even fucked you. No one else is going to. And I could understand why," he muttered, looking at Frank with disgust. "One minute you hate it, and the next your pleading for me to continue. You fucking whore." Pete knew those were harsh words to shout at Frank, especially for someone who never had any experience and was already full of self-doubt. But for the first time, Pete was bluffing. Frank was pretty tight. There was nothing Frank couldn't learn. He had to make sure he kept Frank and is tight ass before someone else got to him.

Frank froze at Pete's comments, letting them absorb into his brain. Taking a hold of the sheets, he brought them to his chest as he realized that Pete was right . _Frank knew he wasn't the most important person in the world. Everyone at school reminded him of that. So did his parents. Pete was the only one who wasted his time for him. Pete saw past that and tried to let him experience something he would probably never experience again in his life. And how did he reward him?_

Pete was helping _him, not hurting him (although his ass thought otherwise). His chest tightened when he heard Pete mutter, "I don't know what I'm gonna do with you."_

The thought of the only friend he had ever made leaving him made Frank quick to apologize. "I'm sorry," he quickly said. Pete ignored him, still deep in his thoughts. "I won't question you again, okay?" Frank went over to where Pete was and kissed his shoulder, feeling lower than scum. "I see that you were trying to help me, and I was being stupid. Please? I'm sorry Pete..." Frank closed his eyes and hugged Pete for assurance. "I'm sorry about the whole thing." A small smile crept to Pete's lips once he realized what this meant. He couldn't believe how easy this had been. Frank's esteem must have been even lower than he had initially thought.

He now had Frank twisted around his finger.

* * *

Pete smiled, the wonderful memory replaying in his head as Sara smiled back. He wasn't smiling at her. He could care less about her, truthfully. Frank was the only one on his mind.

Pete's cell vibrated and he quickly opened it to find Gerard had finally texted him back, the first time in weeks. He smiled as he read his message.

_What the fuck do you want Pete? I'm not in the mood._

Ignoring Sara's inquisitive look completely, he replied Gerard.

_Ha. Fucker actually txted back, eh? Ima call u at 11, kay? Nighttime. And u'd better answer. Mikey lives around the corner, and he doesn't lock his doors, yknow._

After he sent it, he realized that the Sara girl was still staring at him questioningly. He closed his cell phone and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, I've got to go," Pete said, making sure to add a hint of sadness into his voice. Sara sadly smiled back. She had thought Petey was a pretty good guy, but she doubted she would ever see him again. He was already nicer than the other guys she knew. She was debating whether or not to offer her number when Pete held her by her chin.

"Are you okay?" he sincerely asked. She gave a hopeless shrug. What could she do?

"You look pretty down," Pete said, considering something. Sara couldn't tell what, but her heart soared when Pete reached over the counter into her butt-pocket for her cell and plugged in his number. She didn't want to betray her emotions, but a small smile crept up to her lips.

"If you ever need to talk..." Pete said, slowly backing away. Sara winked, and Pete chuckled, slowly making his way out of the store. As he made his way to his car, Pete realized that he had the soda in his hand from before.

She was, no doubt, going to replace Tina.


	29. A SlipUp

**A Slip-Up**

"I'm so sorry, Petey," Tina whispered hysterically as she opened the door to the Iero household. Pete rolled his eyes at her. In her defense, she continued, "I just messed up. I hate this job, you know."

"It's okay," he whispered truthfully as he shrugged her aside, making his way to the angered/worried faces of the Ieros. Tina wouldn't be working here for long anyway.

As soon as Pete entered the boardroom, Mrs. Iero worriedly peered her eyes at him. "So how long has this been going on?" she asked to no one in particular. Her body, though, was nearing Pete's.

"What's going on?" Pete asked, playing dumb. If everything went by how it was supposed to, Frank should have been home by the end of tomorrow. "Is everything alright?"

"No, Pete," Mr. Iero gravely said. "It isn't."

"What's wrong?" he slowly asked, setting down his coke on the table.

"Frank's not in school," Mrs. Iero started.

"I know," Pete casually said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What do you mean by...?" Mr. Iero asked, mimicking his shrug.

"I saw him just a few minutes ago," Pete lied, pointing at his car through the window. "He was wandering around."

"Oh, you found him!" Mrs. Iero exclaimed, smiling.

Pete couldn't help but smile at how animated Frank's parents were when he wasn't around. Frank never knew how much his parents actually cared. Although, Pete thought that it didn't matter if they did. Point was, Frank never saw because they wouldn't let him. And they never knew about Frank's troubles because he never told them as well, hence the birth of such a wonderful Iero family relationship.

"How is he?" Mrs. Iero asked, going over to hug Pete. Mr. Iero loosened his belt.

"Bring the boy here," he demanded. "I need to get some sense into him."

"He's been out of it lately, hasn't he?" Mrs. Iero sadly noted. "Ever since that sitter he had left...he locked himself in his room for so long. And now it's messing with his schooling." Her eyes widened as she made a connection. "Is this about Gerard?" she asked Pete.

Pete nodded. "I'm afraid it is," he said, only creating a half-lie. "And to answer your question Mrs. Iero," Pete continued, "I sent Frank back to school. He promised me that he wouldn't do it again."

"He did, did he?" Mr. Iero warily asked. "Did you bother asking him why the hell he skipped a month of school?"

"Yes, I did actually," Pete calmly continued. "I mean, shouldn't I? I'm the one that drops him off everyday," he threw in, capturing Mr. Iero.

"That's true," Mr. Iero admitted. "Did he say why?"

"He said he cut because he was still pissed about Gerard," Pete said, taking a sip of his coke. Tina stood by the doorway, amazed at how gullible the Ieros were with Pete.

"What _about_ Gerard?" Mrs. Iero snapped. "He molested him."

" _He_ doesn't think so..." Pete continued, shrugging.

"I swear, the kid is messed up," Mr. Iero muttered, shaking his head.

"...And, I don't think he's coming home," Pete continued, placing his coke down. Time to get his plan in action. Tina snickered at his bold move and he glared at her.

"You think it's funny he's not coming home?" he asked her, and she shut up. Mr. Iero's ears perked up and he looked straight at Pete.

"What do you _mean_ he's not coming home?" Mr. Iero asked, his anger rising. "Hasn't he been doing this same shit for a month now? Why so scared to come home today?"

"He seemed _really_ out of it," Pete bullshitted. "It's like the more he cuts school, the worse off he becomes. So he asked if he could stay over at my place for a while." Pete had a smug know-it-all expression on his face and Tina gave a small smile. He had reason to feel like that. The Iero's did everything he wanted. It just always worked out. Whatever he needed, they ended up doing, no questions asked. It was so sad how they ended up willingly helping him without realizing.

"No," Mr. Iero surprisingly said, making Pete break a sweat. Tina secretly smiled at the image of Pete's final end.

Mrs. Iero had to ruin it, though.

"Why?" she asked her husband angrily. "He wants to help our son! He's on the brink! He hasn't been the same since Gerard. And if Pete is what it takes to get our Frank back, then so be it."

"Why can't Frank just come home, then?" Mr. Iero asked his wife snootily, gripping his belt.

"Because of _this_ !" she shouted at him, motioning over to the grip he had currently. "Have you noticed how much he's grown to hate school? Us? People in general?"

Tina had to give Mrs. Iero a well-deserved pat on the back, because it seemed like Mrs. Iero _did_ notice her son's changes. But, she was ruining the possibly only chance Pete would ever have of getting his lies uncovered.

"He's gone to school and done well anyway," Mr. Iero said. "I don't care if he likes us or not because we're his parents, and he listens to us regardless. And as for him not liking people, he likes Pete, so that's enough for me, because I like Pete."

_You wouldn't if you knew what he did_ , Tina thought to herself, biting her nail.

"And _Gerard_ ," Mrs. Iero rightfully pointed out, "as much as we don't like that kid. If Frank didn't like school, it was only a matter of time before he started skipping. If he doesn't like us, it's only a matter of time before he leaves home," she continued, oblivious to the fact that was already the case. "And now we're taking away the only two people that he's trusted? What do you think that'll lead to? Gerard's dirty ass was kicked out because he was no good. But how can we ever justify kicking out Pete? Let Frank go," Mrs. Iero pleaded, holding on to Mr. Iero's arm.

"If it doesn't work, we'll coax him back home, okay baby?" Mrs. Iero spoke, changing her tone. It was obvious she had been thinking over this for a while. Mr. Iero shrugged, realizing that he had lost the battle. She was right. Pete had done nothing wrong.

"So, Pete," Mrs. Iero said once she could sense her husband's surrender. "Frank can stay with you." Tina stood there in awe of Pete's 'powers.' The man uttered a word and soon everyone swayed to believe it.

"Thank you," Pete said with false politeness. One problem down, one to go, Pete thought as he smirked to himself. He realized how nicely things were going for him, and how easy things were around him.

Take Frank, as a perfect example.

"He _did_ say he wanted to talk some more about what he was feeling," Pete said, dragging his luck. "I was just hoping it would help."

"It will," Mrs. Iero said assuringly. "I think he just misses Gerard is all. Got caught up in the head and forgot about the wonderful friend he had."

_Right you are_, Pete thought, smiling to himself.

"You know, half of this wouldn't have happened had you answered the phone like you were supposed to," Mr. Iero said, finally speaking up and directing his anger at Tina. Tina's eyes widened.

"Huh?" she asked, taking her nail out of her mouth. She looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Yeah, about that...I don't think Tina's been doing a good job either," Pete said, scratching the back of his head. He took a long sip of his soda and licked his lips, his mind on Sara. He gave one look at Tina and she could tell he was about to do some irreversible damage.

"There's a girl named Sara," Pete started. "And she _loves_ kids..."  


* * *

"Frankie?" Gerard asked as he sat alone at the coffee table, staring across the room at Frank's listless body on their bed.

Still, there was no response.

But he couldn't have honestly expected one. He had been doing this for hours now, periodically calling Frank's name over at the bed. After Pete had texted him back about a call around eleven, he had come inside to find Frank huddled in bed, alone and distraught. Again, Gerard had wanted to apologize for what he had said. He seemed to realize that Frank was delicate in some ways, and he had to be held the right way. If not, he'd break into little pieces and apologize his ass off. It was a habitual action of his, and Gerard wasn't too sure where Frank had picked it up. Had it been from the bullying or from Pete? Either way, the sources were bad. He had to get Frank to stop.

Gerard sat quietly at the coffee table and waited for Frank to turn his way in even the slightest of movements, but he never did. Instead, Frank ended up napping in his position, one of the pillows tightly held by his arms. Eventually, Frank's position faltered and he ultimately ended up with his back against the bed, pillow over his midsection, and one leg hanging off the bed. Occasionally, Gerard would hear him sniffle, but that was about it.

Frank shuffled in bed, sniffling yet again as Gerard took out the sketchpad he had when he and Frank first entered this room almost two months ago. Going through each of his past sketches, he made his way to Frank and the television. His mind traveled back to that day. It had been the day after he had 'kidnapped' Frank, and he had no idea why Frank had wanted him to. Today, everything seemed to fit. He understood the danger Frank wanted to get away from, why Frank had asked him to kidnap him from his home, and why he seemed so troubled by the thought that Gerard actually did it. He probably thought no one ever would. At least, that's what it seemed like to Gerard.

Now, Frank was a different person. He was more open, Gerard thought. Or, maybe he just knew more about him than he ever had now. It felt like they were closer.

_Well, duh_ , Gerard thought, giving a mental slap to himself. _Of course we seem 'closer.' We're boyfriends_.

They were boyfriends, and he didn't understand his boyfriend well enough to get that his kiss was his way of showing his sympathy/empathy/pity/whatever emotion. It was all he was used for prior to their relationship. He should have been able to put that together after what Frank had told him. Knowing Pete, he probably told Frank a lot of shit that Frank probably believed. That was the only reason why Gerard could imagine his rejection would cause Frank distress. Whatever he had said and did probably proved a point Pete had made to Frank before, and the small voice (that wasn't always right but Frank listened to anyway) was probably laughing at him for being so stupid to ever think or hope for otherwise.

Gerard sighed, closing the book. He had been in this same seat for almost four hours. Six o'clock was approaching, and he yawned at how tired he had become, watching Frank fitfully sleep. Frank seemed to be dreaming about something. Or maybe he was dreaming about some _one_ .

Gerard made his way over to Frank and sat on the bed, trying not to move it. Frank whimpered and retracted, holding onto the pillow as Gerard neared him and held his shoulder. Frank started whimpering even more, quietly murmuring incoherent words to Gerard's ear when Gerard lay beside him. Gerard took him in his grasp and hugged Frank, kissing the temple on his forehead as he saw tears flow and sniffles increase. That action had been too bold and too conspicuous that Frank had woken up, startled by his actions.

"What?" Frank quickly asked, rising. "Why? Why did you go?" he asked, searching around for Gerard. "I'm sorry for disgusting you, Gee. Don't go to him."

_Him_ ? Gerard wondered. _Who_?

"Frank," Gerard said, rubbing his shoulder. "It's okay. That was a dream. I'm here, now."

"Oh, good," Frank murmured, coming back down into his arms and engulfing Gerard in a hug, his tearstains messing up Gerard's shirt. " _Good_ ." They laid there, the two of them. Gerard would rub Frank's back while Frank would wipe his eyes and hold on to Gerard like he was holding on to dear life itself.

It was his dream that was shaking Frank up. It had been the same dream as last time, Gerard, Pete, the vibrator, you name it. Except _this_ time, Gerard gave him a break-up speech before he went to Pete started messing around. To make matters worse, Gerard had given Frank a pity-kiss before turning around passionately towards Pete and lustfully kissing him. From then on, it was déjà vu.

"Frankie?" Gerard quietly asked, slowly patting Frank's head. Frank laid within his arms, unmoving to his gentle caresses. "Are you okay?"

"Hm?" Frank asked, sniffling at his remembrance of the dream. Remembering that he was lying in the arms of the man who eagerly and willingly welcomed Pete into his arms in his dream, Frank sat up from instinct. He didn't need to be here, not if Gerard didn't want him.

Whatever silly notion was in Frank's head, Gerard erased it, pulling himself close to Frank. He sat up as well, not wanting to yank Frank down on the bed. Frank rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh before he faced his boyfriend. "Sorry for being knocked out," he apologized.

" _I'm_ sorry for how I acted in the park, Frankie," Gerard sincerely said. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I understand completely," Frank said, dismissing his apology. "I shouldn't have done that. It was pretty whore-y of me."

"No, Frankie," Gerard said, throwing away the notion. "It _wasn't_ . It was just all...a little bit too much for me to handle at the time," he admitted, setting the record straight. "I mean, to hear that Pete has been molesting you—''

"I let him, though," Frank interrupted, urging Gerard to feel guilt free. But he didn't know what Gerard knew. Frank didn't know what was gnawing away at him.

"That's not the point, though," Gerard said, dismissing Frank's attempt to lessen the burden. He began to rub small circles on Frank's back. "I mean, I just kept thinking about how Pete would probably create a sob-story like that to take advantage of your compassion and sympathy to get in your pants. And at that moment, I felt like _I_ was Pete, taking advantage of your heart."

"God, no!" Frank's eyes widened as he gasped, appalled at the idea. "I can't even picture you two _standing_ together let alone the two of you being _alike_ ." He shivered as he was reminded of his dream. Well, maybe he _could_ imagine the two of them together, but that was only during sex. Anybody could be paired with anybody during sex. But as boyfriends? Personality and character-wise? The two of them just didn't mix.

"And you're not creating your story," Frank went on. "You're not taking advantage of me."

"Even if I was," Gerard said, staring into Frank's tired eyes, "would you _stop_ me from taking advantage of you?" Frank uneasily looked towards the window, avoiding eye contact with Gerard, and Gerard mentally shook his head at Frank's apparent answer. He inwardly cursed Pete for making Frank so fragile and delicate. With this self esteem, he'd let _anyone_ step over him. Frank needed to know just how important he was and what he _deserved_ .

"I couldn't see you and Pete together, either," Gerard muttered under his breath, deciding to change the subject. "And look at what you've just told me."

"Well," Frank said, speaking up now. He completely ignored Gerard's first statement and tried to correct Gerard on his mistake. A smile crept on his lips as he saw confusion spelled out on Gerard's face. "Technically, you _can't_ imagine Pete and me."

"Why can't I?" Gerard asked, comfortably holding Frank. Frank shrugged before childishly giving a small giggle and lightly shoving Gerard.

A few seconds later, Gerard bit his tongue when he realized what his mistake was.

Frank continued giggling, fully aware of just how far Gerard was willing to go to make him feel better. Gerard was going towards the extent of lying and saying that he knew Pete. Gerard was such a sweetheart to him, Frank guiltily thought. He couldn't help but point out Gerard's evident mistake. It was okay. Gerard didn't have to lie to him to make him feel better. He was fine alone with just Gerard's arms around him.

"Because," Frank pointed out, still intent on answering Gerard's question, "I've never shown you a picture of him, unless the Pete I'm talking about and the Pete at your job are the same person," he joked.

Frank's smiled broadened at Gerard when he could see emotions flash across Gerard's face. He grinned into the hug Gerard was giving him, snuggling safely in Gerard's arms as he stated the obvious.

Gerard, on the other hand, felt like shit. Frank still had no idea that he knew his 'Pete.' He had wanted to ignore this fact, but it kept popping up. He needed to do a better job concealing Pete and his complete past relations with him.

In response to Frank's statement, Gerard gave a small grin and rubbed Frank's back, as if agreeing with him. As long as he never verbally came out and said it, he would be fine. And if Frank ever found out, he could reply that he had never come out and _said_ anything.

But as the rubbing continued, Gerard felt lower and lower. He should have told Frank about Pete. He should have told Frank back at the park. Frank trusted him.

Gerard gently kissed Frank's cheek, but he froze when he heard Frank adorably giggle and add on, "You can't imagine us together when you haven't _met_ him yet, silly. _Duh_. "


	30. Together Again

**Together Again**

Mikey sighed as he pushed his key through the keyhole. Ever since that slight argument he and Gerard had about the discovery he had made, he hadn't heard from his brother at all. He was a bit surprised that he hadn't said anything to him either, because he hadn't been sending Gerard any more money. He had been so fumed after their argument that he canceled the last payment.

_Let his whore-money pay for him_ , he cruelly figured.

But now, he was feeling bad. Gerard always tried to contact him, and here he was a couple days later with no Gerard-check. As annoying as his brother's 'checks' had been, he missed them.

Opening the door, he groped around for the light switch and dropped his keys on the top of the dresser where clothes from the day Gerard had packed both his and Frank's things. Besides that, the rest of the apartment room was clean and tidy, something it hadn't been for a while. Mikey didn't want to blame it on his brother, but his absence did make things a little better around the apartment.

Mikey was now having better meals nowadays than he had when he was with his brother. Well, in actuality, the only reason things were better was because he was now eating food that the two of them together used to share. He still had to save enough money to send to Gerard every week.

After he had gotten off the phone with Gerard, Mikey was unsure what to do with the extra money he now had. He was thinking of spending it, but after some long and hard thought, he decided that he should apologize to Gerard and give him the money. What if he had been kicked out the hotel? What if he had no money since he was kicked out of the hotel, and that was why he couldn't call? What if there was some type of emergency? Why hadn't he thought of this before?

He dropped his bags on the floor as he headed straight for the couch, melting into it instantly. Work was a bore, as usual, but today they made him carry several heavy items, which was not fun at all.

Mikey closed his eyes, digging into his pocket as he muttered curses to himself. Whenever there was a fall-out, _he_ was always the first one to give in. With a sigh, he pressed speed-dial one and waited patiently for Gerard to pick up.

His thoughts traveled back to Gerard and the boy he had kidnapped, Frank. Where was he in all this? Gerard was busting his ass and life basically for this kid, and for what? A little something?

He told himself that it wasn't, because the night Frank had slept over, he seemed oblivious to Gerard's feelings. And Gerard's feelings were stronger than those that he had mere 'flings' with. There was something else behind the kidnapping besides the crush. There _had_ to be, for someone to make such risks like Gerard was.

And couldn't the Frank guy support them anyway? Gerard had mentioned that he was in a rich business family earlier on in the summer. Why wasn't he—

"Hello?" Mikey heard his brother ask. A smaller voice in the background asked, "Who is that, Gee?"

"Gerard?" Mikey immediately piped up.

"Mikey?" Gerard asked from the other end, obviously happy. "Hey! Where are you?"

"Home," Mikey said. "Where else would I be?" He took it from Gerard's eager and happy greeting that he wasn't mad at him. At least, not yet.

"So, why'd you call?" his brother timidly asked, and he muttered a few other words that Mikey could not make out. Something about 'coming back'...

"What?" he asked.

"Oh no, sorry," Gerard said, explaining. "I was just...on the bed with Frank, and I was getting up. We were...talking about stuff and..."

"You don't need to explain," Mikey said, breaking into a small smile. "I just called to ask you more about this Pete guy."

"Oh..."

"Pete?" Mikey tried again. "That guy that said he was Frank's brother...?"

"I know," Gerard said, raising his voice. Mikey bit his tongue. Maybe Gerard wasn't over it like he thought he was.

"Can you wait a sec?" he said over the phone before mumbling some more words (to Frank, no doubt). After a few moments of hearing Frank's smaller voice and Gerard's sterner yet compassionate voice exchange a few words, Gerard answered Mikey with a stronger voice than before.

"What about Pete?" he finally asked. Mikey took it that his brother had left Frank by this point.

"I found out as much that he's your 'chore' or 'job,' whatever the hell you wanna call it," Mikey said. "But I wanted to know if he really had anything to do with Frank and you running away." Mikey could hear Gerard take in a deep breath and he already knew the answer.

"I kinda found out today why Frank wanted me to take him so badly," Gerard slowly started, as if he was picking his words carefully. "It has everything to do with Pete, actually."

"Is Pete even his brother?"

"No," Gerard said. "Mikey, Pete's...Pete's my 'job' or chore or whatever, but I only went to him when there was no other source of money—''

"What about me?" Mikey asked. "When we're low on money, you see me go out and get a _job_ , a real job. Not prostituting."

"Yeah, I realize how dumb that was now," Gerard admitted. "But what's done was done, and I can't help but try to move on from that. It's so hard to move on from that."

"From what?" Mikey dumbly asked. "Sex with Pete?"

" _No_ , Mikey!" Gerard said. "I can't get over the fact that I potentially played a role in Frank's torture."

"What do you mean?"

"Pete and Frank, Mikey! 'My' Pete has been molesting Frankie for quite some time now," Gerard said. "He told me today, and it was the hardest thing for him. He didn't even finish because he started attacking himself and yanking out his hair so I made him stop. But it was horrible. He must've been abused since his early teen years. He's only seventeen, Mikes. And if I can pull things from my memory the right way, I'd say that I heard Pete mention stuff about a little boy as far back as three years, which would mean that Frank has been molested since he was fifteen years old or so. _Fifteen_ .

"Frank and I feel closer with each other now, but every time I touch him—don't perv, Mikes—or hold him, I can't help but think of what Pete has probably done. I don't even understand how he can feel so calm and relaxed around me after Pete," Gerard explained.

"I'm pretty sure you're different from that Pete guy, Gerard," Mikey said. "Or else he wouldn't have asked you to take him."

"That's another thing," Gerard continued, ignoring the fact that Mikey even spoke. "He was sleeping with him and scared to say anything because he was scared about losing a new friend he made. Frank honestly has no friends, Mikes. Not besides Pete, and he's come to realize Pete's a monster."

"Really?" Mikey asked. "I know you've probably mentioned it before, but when he was here, he seemed like a pretty cool guy. He was a bit shy and stuff—''

"He's always shy," Gerard agreed. "He barely talks to anyone. But, I've gotten him to talk a bit."

"Wow," Mikey said, letting all the info Gerard told him sink in. "But why do _you_ feel bad about it? I mean, w-well you _should_ , but I mean, why do you feel like it's your fault?"

"Oh, Frankie does that all the time," Gerard went on instead, "blaming the abuse on himself. 'I let him' he always says."

"You can't really rape the willing," Mikey said, agreeing with Frank's statement. Gerard gasped.

"Oh, yes you can," Gerard said. "Ever heard of weapons?"

"I highly doubt Pete had weapons, or else Frank would be dead by now," Mikey said. "If he truly believed Frank didn't like it, and Frank didn't , he'd definitely kill him because Frank would definitely tell. But because Frank must've enjoyed whatever happened, and he _did_ , Pete never thought that he would need a reason to guard himself, hence the saying still goes."

"We're not here to argue about whether he was willing or not," Gerard said, jealous at the idea that Frank might've even had the slightest of crushes on Pete. "We're talking about how I played a role in it, and I can't help but think about all those cancellations I made with Pete. He must've gone and raped Frank."

"Don't feel too bad about it," Mikey said. "Cuz like I said before, you can't r—''

"He wasn't willing," Gerard interrupted him. "I _know_ those times he wasn't, because those were the times when I started baby-sitting him. He'd call and sound so depressed...it scared me, Mikes. And now I know why. Now, I understand, and I want Pete dead."

"You might as well," Mikey joked. "You're probably going to go to jail anyway for stealing Frank." Gerard chuckled on the other end, but as soon as the laughing subsided, Mikey asked, "Gerard? I'm being serious now. Are you really going to go to jail?"

"I...I don't know, Mikey," Gerard admitted. "But I feel like I don't care. I'm at peace with myself. Frankie's away from harm...we're talking again after—what is it, two? Three days?"

"Hmm," Mikey quietly mumbled.

"You two are honestly all I have left here, I guess...Jail's the only place left for me," Gerard continued. "If getting Frank away from evil is what makes me qualified to go to jail, then so be it. I don't want to be here."

"You sound suicidal."

"No, I mean 'here' as in the 'outside world.' I'd rather be in jail," Gerard explained. "Because something is definitely wrong with the system."

There was a bit more silence on the line before Mikey decided to lighten the gravity of the situation by asking about Gerard's love life.

"So have you done the I.L.M. yet?" he asked, snickering.

"What?" Gerard asked. As Mikey laughed at Gerard's reaction, he took out his wallet and started counting the bills for Gerard's stay at the hotel. Or was it motel...?

"I.L.M.?" Mikey asked again. "Illegal Love Making?" Once Gerard realized what he meant, he blushed and denied it. "Or would you prefer the I.F.?" Mikey continued.

"No," Gerard said, a bit too giddily. "And why would I tell you anyway? You're my _brother_ !"

"I'm just saying," Mikey joked. "But on a serious level, how is he?"

"He's...getting better," Gerard said, his voice softening. "I just really want him to heal before I end up roughing him again."

"You really sound like he needs to heal from the fuck you guys just did," Mikey giggled, and Gerard quickly denied this claim as well.

"We're not fucking," Gerard said. "But...we _do_ cuddle."

"Aw," Mikey falsely cooed. "Does Gerard like poking Frankie in the ass at night? How cute."

"Fuck off," Gerard warned him. Mikey bit his tongue back from another remark, counting the money he had.

"Um, hey," Mikey said, trying to get Gerard's attention. "I still have the money from this week to give you for the hotel...? Or is it motel?"

"Motel," said Gerard. "And the money isn't necessary."

"Yeah, it is," Mikey said, "or else you'd have no hide-out. Now, are you at the same place?"

"Yeah," Gerard admitted. "Do you even remember the address?"

"Is it 183 Morrissey Street?" Mikey asked, and Gerard nodded.

"Yup," he said, and paused as he heard Mikey pack away the money. "Look, Mikey...I'll pay you back as soon as possible—''

"I don't want it back," Mikey said. "Not if it means you'll sleep for it, then hell no. I don't want you to do that to yourself for me. Plus, we're brothers. This is what we do for each other. You call me names, and I chase away any potential boyfriends you might've had. It's a mutual relationship. And like you said and we both know..." Mikey took a breath as he uttered the last part aloud.

"We both know you're going to jail, so...why not enjoy stuff now?" he asked his big brother. "I mean, hell, why not enjoy stuff now with Frank before it all gets taken away? Before _he_ gets taken away? I'm not gay or anything, but if I had been in your circumstance, I probably would have already."

"Well, that's because you're a horny bastard," Gerard joked with his younger brother.

" _I'm_ the horny bastard?" Mikey asked. "Who essentially has the—I quote _you_ here—'sexiest guy alive' locked up all to himself over a period of almost two months? Are you telling me you've done nothing sexual to him?"

"I've done sexual stuff, but not to _him_ at least," Gerard confessed, a smirk reaching his lips.

"Ew," said Mikey, and Gerard chuckled.

"You're such a baby, Mikes," he said. "You go on forever talking about how I'm fucking Frank and shit, and then when I even _hint_ at masturbation—''

"Ew."

"—you squeal like a little girl," Gerard continued. "You really amaze me. You know that?"

"I _am_ amazing," Mikey joked after muttering his last 'ew,' and they both chuckled to get rid of some of the previous tension that hung over their heads before this call.

Gerard got to thinking about Pete's previous threat that he had texted him not too long ago and he decided to warn Mikey.

"You know, Mikes," he started. "Maybe you should move in with mom and dad again."

"And get rid of the apartment now? No way."

"Then you should lock your doors at night," Gerard pressed. "Don't let anyone in. I want you to be, like, OCD on this, okay?" Mikey laughed, shrugging it off. "I'm serious, Mikes," Gerard said.

"Okay, okay," he laughed, getting up and placing the bag of money into his messenger bag. He'd make the payment for rent in person. He just had to remember to go this week. "Can I actually visit you two?"

"I dunno if that's a safe idea," Gerard started. "I mean, do you really want to be associated with a kidnapper? They'd probably find a charge or something that they could put against you."

"What if I came and you just happened to be going outside with Frank then?" Mikey suggested. "I'd walk out after paying, and we could hang out somewhere. I don't know where, because I haven't been to that side of the town, but I'm sure you two know some places."

"Um...sure," Gerard finally decided. "Why not? What day do you plan on coming?"

"Um, maybe the end of the week," Mikey said. "Maybe Friday? Saturday at the latest."

"Cool," Gerard giddily responded. Mikey could detect that his voice had lowered many octaves, so he figured he was back within Frank's hearing range.

"So...see you later?" Mikey asked, and Gerard nodded.

"Bye Mikes."

The phone line went dead and Mikey stared at his phone for a long while after the conversation had ended. Everything was making sense to him now. And wherever Gerard was, he was fine, and so was that kid Frank, whom Gerard 'hadn't' slept with.

Mikey burst out laughing, unable to keep it in. That seemed almost impossible. Gerard and another boy who he thought was delicious, was practically his and he did nothing to him? Please. Mikey wasn't born yesterday.

Remembering Gerard's pleas for the apartment to be locked at all times in the apartment, Mikey rose and searched all openings to the apartment, including the windows. He went to each of them, there weren't many, and locked them to favor Gerard's pleas, as trivial as he thought this was.

He felt good about calling Gerard, and he was glad he did. Over the past couple of days, he had felt like shit. Hopefully now, things would get better. Why wouldn't they? He'd be seeing him before Saturday.

Mikey finally sat in the chair again when he finished, letting his eyes droop as he stared blankly at the clock tick its way into oblivion. He stared at the clock as the hour hand reached the eight, and he finally rested his eyes and mind in anticipation for the next following days.


	31. Uncertainty

**Uncertainty**

The rest of the day went by slowly for Frank. He and Gerard were in the middle of their conversation when Mikey had called, so Gerard had gone for almost ten minutes, talking to his brother. He had stayed inside, waiting for the two brothers to talk to each other. He wondered why Mikey hadn't called at night like he used to. But he didn't want to ask Gerard. He'd seem nosy that way.

Frank waited for a while before Gerard entered the room again. Thankfully, Gerard only gave Frank a lazy smile before lying back in the bed, not saying a word. Curiosity got the better of Frank.

"So that was Mikey?" Frank timidly asked, and Gerard nodded, yawning. He gave a stretch before allowing his eyes to lazily shut. Frank lay there, staring into Gerard's face with pure entrancement.

"He's such a good brother," he murmured, tugging on a few of the pillows as he resigned. Frank didn't mind, because he figured he was so tired from staying up and watching him.

"Gerard?" Frank whispered, removing a strand of hair from his handsome face. His sleeping angel never responded but to give a small smile. Frank smiled himself as he leant in to kiss him on the cheek. Gerard deserved his sleep, he decided. He must've been awake the whole time while he had been sleeping. The only things that he could have done was let him get his sleep.

Quietly, Frank retreated from Gerard's arms and onto the coffee chair to watch his blessed guardian resting...  


* * *

_Gerard wearily made his way into the Iero household, taking off his shoes and taking off his jacket. Today had been a pretty useless day. He was hoping that his time with Frank would make it all better._

Going into the secretary's office, Gerard found Tina doing her hair in a small mirror. He felt himself mindlessly throw her a dazzling smile and she nearly melted on the spot. After composing herself, she went up to Gerard and gave him a kiss on his jaw.

"Hey, baby," she murmured, smiling coyly. He smiled back, to his surprise, apparently not shocked at all by the whole scenario. What made Gerard even more nervous was the way he reacted when he felt Tina's lips against his own. Instead of pushing her away, he welcomed her tongue inside his mouth, and it had not felt foreign at all, as if this was something he did on a regular basis. He groped at her body parts, making her gasp and giggle at him. She moved backwards, sitting on the desk as she lured Gerard back with her.

Gerard followed, like a happy dog, eager for the attention she was bringing him today. She moaned slightly, lifting her leg against him while Gerard felt himself take control and rub himself against Tina, who was already wet.

With her hand on Gerard's back, she urged him close, whispering in his ear, "I know you've had a bad day, Petey."

Gerard felt himself grunt as he began kissing the side of her neck. He had been so preoccupied that it hadn't dawned upon him that Tina had just called him 'Petey.'

Tina smiled as she brought her tongue to Gerard's ear, licking it. Gerard groaned and she brought her lips to his once more, sharing a heated kiss with Gerard once more before she pulled away, whispering, " _Frank_ _ is upstairs, baby."_

Upon hearing Frank's name, Gerard stopped immediately, his mind becoming one-tract now. Frank was upstairs. Frank was who he wanted, not Tina.

Why the hell had he felt those things for Tina, though?

He brushed Tina aside as quickly as she had uttered those words and all fell silent. Gerard could see the hurt reflected through her eyes, but it was obvious where he stood. He was here for Frank, not her. He had already fucked her loads of times. And every time, it was the same thing. At least with Frank, there was a variety. And it wasn't even like he was doing it for no reason, too, Gerard reasoned, coming to his own defense. He was just doing Frank a favor, in reality, sexing him up before his big debut under his business. Sexing him up to meet Arthur. Sexing him up for his, hopefully, fine-toned ability of mind-blowing sex.

His hands quickly released Tina and he backed away, trying to listen for any clue that his prized possession was upstairs. Sure enough, he heard Frank pacing in his room (probably scheming a plan), and he made his way up the stairs. Tina stared at him from the bottom of the stairs, with slits now for eyes. But he could care less. He was going to meet Frank, and Frank was going to make it all better. Of course, Frank wouldn't so openly oblige—that was another thing he had to change if he wanted to be successful in the business—but that was okay, because Gerard was going to force him either way.

With one knock at the door, Gerard heard a small voice call out for him to come in. He caught himself laughing at the thought or mere possibility of Iero telling _him_ _ 'No, you can't come in.'_

He stood face to face with a young Frank, maybe in his early teen years, he imagined. At the sight of his trophy, Gerard felt himself harden even more, swiftly entering the room and shutting the door. At first, it was the two of them, arm-length away from one another, just staring. Frank was rooted in fear, Gerard knew, and he used that to approach Frank.

"I-I didn't think I'd see you again," Frank stuttered once he realized what Gerard was about to do. He then quickly buried his face in the crook of Gerard's neck, earning a chuckle from Gerard. His trophy might've been gullible, but he was a pretty quick thinker when faced with the facts.

"I missed you Pete," he continued to lie, sending a chill down Gerard's spine. But it was not the lie that gave Gerard the chills. It was what, or _whom_ _ rather, Frank had called him. For the first time that night, he had opened his ears and heard what he was being called. Surely making out with Tina was possibly Pete-like. But Frank hadn't seen, had he?_

Thoughts rummaged through his head all at once. He hadn't been thinking when he had been with Tina. He was speaking from the loins, then. Now, he felt obligated to speak for the first time and correct Frank from the mistake that he was making. He realized all that he had done, and how wrong they had been. Why had he not noticed? Gerard did not want to be compared to Pete, so he finally opened his mouth and tried to speak.

"Shh, Petey," Frank murmured once more, silencing Gerard. He got on his tip-toes to give Gerard a kiss on the cheek, and Gerard felt the same feeling come over him, complacent with its actions. He felt himself hold Frank there, against his will, as other thoughts seemed to poison his mind once more.

Had Frank thought he could just wish him away by his silly pathetic lies and kisses? Frank knew Gerard was horny, but not stupid.

"Did you get my message?" Gerard cruelly crooned aloud, shocked at the coldness of his voice...a voice that was not even his.

Gerard didn't sound like himself. It was Pete's voice that left his mouth. He realized that he probably even looked _ like the fucker himself because he had Pete's unmistakable voice pouring out of his voice-box. It would go on to explain the mix-up everyone seemed to be making. It would go to explain his little fling with Tina downstairs, the current fear Frank had of him, and the thoughts and motives behind his actions._

This also, _Gerard thankfully realized,_ is nothing more than a dream.  
_  
But dream or no dream, he could no longer control his actions once the realization came over, the dream having a mind of its own on where and how it wanted things to unravel._

Frank stared at him worriedly and he boldly stated, "I got it."

Gerard had to give props to the boy for not lying to save his ass. It would have gone on nicely with the little pretend naive-thing Frank was trying to pull off. Maybe he had given up...

He was hit with a sudden wave of memory that was not his, yet he found himself reacting to a cell phone text from a familiar number, canceling an important meeting he had scheduled. He felt a rage build up from within at the client who had canceled, but a cold smile played on his lips as he remembered the message that he had sent to Frank.

Frank was such an idiot, but that was what made everything all the more appealing for Gerard. After that cancellation, he had no doubt sent Frank a message. But the message was a false one, telling Frank that he had a present to give him. Now that he thought about it, he _did_ _ have something for him. Whether or not Frank would accept it as a present was Frank's choice._

Gerard had Frank in a death grip now, pulling the obviously frightened young boy against his body. Gerard found himself relishing the friction between the two of them, urging Frank to move as well. But Frank stayed, rooted in fear. He could smell the fear from him, and it made Gerard feel superior over the young boy.

With one last useless rub against Frank, Gerard violently shoved him on the abandoned bed in his room. Frank quickly scurried up, afraid of what would await him if he laid still.

Gerard was overcome with a rage to tear Frank down and show Frank whom he belonged to, in a twisted attempt to get back at his client. Although, he himself was not sure how it would work out, being that Frank knew no one and it was very unlikely that his client knew Frank. He just needed someone and something to take it out on, and that someone he preferred was Frank. As much as he liked that client, he couldn't let him detect his anger. Unfortunately, his client had reminded him of Frank's importance. The client, Gerard bitterly realized, could go in and out of his life as he pleased. Whereas Frank did not and could not, for Gerard was the only _ person whom Frank belonged to._

Gerard's own separate heart sped up when he could hint the bitter taste of jealously pulsing through Pete's body...

Gerard felt an all-too-regular feeling at the bottom of his stomach and he looked down to see that his little buddy— _Pete's_ _ little buddy—was coming out and demanding to play. Frank caught sight of it and he winced slightly, remembering the prior times. He angrily cursed to himself when he realized what he had gotten himself into._

Gerard felt himself smile when he realized the thoughts and hopes Frank had. Had he truly believed that by acting all 'cute-sy' that he would get out of it? And had he thought that Gerard hadn't seen his fear and disappointment? He wasn't fucking blind.

"U-um, I'm happy you're back," Frank started on the lies again, and Gerard let himself fall on the bed beside Frank, who visibly retreated.

"Is that so?" Gerard asked, bringing his hand to Frank's chin and bringing his face to his. He lightly kissed Frank's lips before murmuring once more. Frank hadn't heard.

"What—?''

"I hate it when you do that, babe," Gerard murmured again, making up complete and utter lies for the hell of it. He smiled, pinning Frank beneath him so that he wouldn't try and make a break for it. For good measure, he held Frank by the head using his hair as a net. Frank whimpered.

Gerard was tempted to tell Frank the reason for his foul mood. He was tempted to admit that Arthur, the _one_ _ client he had kind of liked, had backed out on him._

"I hate it when you fight me," Gerard repeated bitterly. "Does Tina ever push me away?"

"I only fight you because it hurts, Petey," Frank said, playing the 'cute' card—in Gerard's eyes—again. He laughed at Frank's attempts to keep him at bay and Frank gulped.

"What have I told you, Frank?" Gerard asked, loosening his belt to release his pants. Frank watched the pants fall to the bed, emitting a light _thud_ _ against the mattress. Giving a sigh, Frank rose to his knees with Gerard directing him, his hands still in his hair. Frank had also gotten up by his own accord, already all-too familiar with the task at hand._

"Don't fight me," Gerard warned one final time, pushing himself closer to Frank's mouth.

Frank slowly made his way toward Gerard, who greedily welcomed him as soon as he felt Frank's warm mouth around his throbbing member. It was inevitable, Frank figured as Gerard directed him. If he was really lucky, Gerard would come soon, and it'd be over. So, taking a deep mental breath, he tried to deep-throat Gerard. He gagged several times and tried to regain his composure, but the way Gerard was holding him, he decided he would go through the hell now so that he could sleep and wallow in his own self-pity later.

Just then, Gerard came back to his own senses—separated from Pete's—and wanted to call for Frank to stop. Although he had come to his senses, he still couldn't speak for himself. All he could feel was Frank's amazing blowjob, his cool-lip ring pressing against his member. He was relishing the feel of his member hitting the back of Frank's throat, Frank's teeth lightly grazing his balls, and Frank's sexy hair brushing against his thighs and erection. He could feel Frank's tongue make its way against the side of his member, slowly lapping at it and making Gerard squirm. He could barely keep himself up from such pleasure, and he had to rely on the walls surrounding the bed to keep up.

How the hell was he supposed to talk and tell Frank to stop doing this ? _He felt a pang of guilt in his stomach when he realized that the only reason why he couldn't speak for himself was because he wanted it, and he wanted Frank. Things were only continuing because of him, he knew. He was swimming in his own thoughts again. Had this been the mind of Pete, he would not be thinking these thoughts right now. He wouldn't have been feeling the guilt._

"Burn in hell," _Gerard heard someone say, their voice full of venom. He looked down to see that Frank had stopped the blowjob, angrily glaring at him instead._

"What?" Gerard asked, dazed. He blinked a couple of more times when he realized he was using his own voice now. This was definitely his own doing, he realized, bile rising to his throat. How could he have allowed Frank to do that? No matter how amazing it felt he had used Frank the same way Pete had. He was no better than him. It was like he feared.

He was the same as Pete.

"Burn in hell, Gerard," Frank repeated, and Gerard could feel Frank shove him.

He deserved to be shoved. Here he was, in Pete's shoes, and he didn't refuse Frank. He let Frank be used for his own pleasure. Frank was nothing but a plaything to him. Even if that was not how Gerard felt, that was what he had just demonstrated.

"I'm sorry, baby," Gerard said, his own voice returning once more. Frank giggled and replied with another shove. The giggle confused the hell out of Gerard and when he blinked again he saw Frank was back at his task, putting his tongue to work against Gerard's boner.

"Gee?" he heard Frank moan. Gerard gave a moan himself when he felt himself being deep throated once more by Frank, and he felt himself arch his back in anticipation of coming.

"Gee?"

"Frankie?" he whined back, feeling pathetic once more for not being able to fight Frank's delicious temptations. "Oh, god," he whimpered, feeling Frank's hands on his body. He felt himself be shoved once more as Frank's voice rang through his head, sending a reminder to himself that this was a dream.

* * *

"Gee, wake up," Gerard heard Frank quietly urge, and like a bullet, Gerard shot up from his position and opened his eyes. In the process, he had knocked Frank over, making him fall off the side of the bed and cling to his knee. Gerard took a moment to remind himself of his surroundings, and Frank giggled a great deal at Gerard's actions.

Remembering that he had just dreamt of receiving a blowjob from Frank (even if it had been from the most twisted of ways), Gerard looked down to see the proud image his member was displaying. He was sure that Frank had seen it. And even if Frank hadn't seen it before, he definitely saw it now, giggling uncontrollably. Gerard stirred in the sheets, even though he was sweating from head to toe, in an attempt to hide his apparent boner. Gerard had muttered something, and Frank stifled in a giggle before rising back up to meet Gerard's eyes.

Gerard had, no doubt, just had a wet dream, Frank figured, watching as Gerard tried to cover up. There was no use in Gerard trying to hide the image from him now. Not when he had heard the whole thing.

It had taken him a while before he had realized, though. Not long after Gerard had fallen asleep, he himself had dazed off, too. He woke up, though, around ten and by that time Frank had been so in tuned to the show on the T.V. that he hadn't heard Gerard tossing and turning. It was now around eleven o'clock, and Frank was anything but tired. He had practically slept the whole day.

It was during these last few moments when Frank realized that Gerard had been sleeping for the last three or so hours, so he went back to his original task of watching Gerard sleep during the commercials. During the last commercial Frank saw something moving underneath the sheets, followed by a moan from Gerard. It was then when he abandoned the show on T.V. completely, and resorted to the erotic show Gerard was putting on.

Frank made his way on the bed, sitting next to the spot where Gerard lay, when a new show started. Frank was about to change it but he stopped, fully entranced by the topic that the next documentary was on.

Prison.

"_In tonight's special documentary_," said the narrator, "_we go into one of the most dangerous jails in America, and into the most dangerous minds of all time._"

Right after displaying a picture of the detention center, a few clips of the inmates flashed on the screen. One was a short clip of a man being handcuffed and sent into his cell, while another one was a short clip of a gang of inmates in a prison fight. A few moments later, one of the inmates being taken away shouted, "_Go to hell!_" .

"What?" Frank heard Gerard mumble, and he realized Gerard had stopped touching himself. There was a questioning look on Gerard's face, and Frank wondered if he should wake Gerard up now.

The little theme song for the documentary came on, and the same clips, along with a few new ones, came back on the screen. Eventually, the title of the documentary came on, and their closing clip was of the same gang of prisoners in a fight. And naturally, the last thing said to close the introduction to the title was the man being carried away, yelling, _"Go to hell!"_

"Gerard," Frank said then, deciding to wake him up. He gave Gerard a gentle shove in an attempt to wake him up.

"I'm sorry," Gerard mumbled in his sleep, and Frank lowered the volume as he giggled. Why the hell was Gerard 'sorry'? Was it because he was having a wet dream and he thought Frank knew? Frank didn't care. In fact, Frank lifted his hand and lightly brushed by Gerard's nice-looking tent, and Gerard got started again on touching himself. Frank couldn't contain his laughter at how easy it was to get Gerard started again.

After being enticed by Gerard's actions, Frank felt himself reaching Gerard's state and he tried one more time to wake him up before he'd have to go to the bathroom himself. But it was already too late, because he was halfway there himself, repetitively pumping himself as images of Gerard before him blinded his mind.

"Gee?" Frank shakily tried as he let go of his member and stood on his knees, about to depart for the bathroom. His pounding penis wouldn't let him leave it alone, though, so he ended up touching it again. It was then when Gerard quickened the pace on himself and arched his head back, giving Frank the ability to store that sexy image in his head for future references. Frank gave a low groan at the sight, half tempted to wake Gerard up now so he'd stop getting off on him. It would be so dangerous if Gerard woke up to find Frank jerking off to him while he slept. He'd probably think it was creepy.

With another try, Frank let go of himself as he successfully made his way on the edge of the bed, one step less towards the bathroom. He took a few more shaky breaths before he regained his composure and attempted to awaken Gerard. Frank lightly shook Gerard, barely moving him at all as he murmured another, "Gee?"

"Frankie?" he heard Gerard unmistakably mumble, and Gerard hardened the pumping of his hard-on.

The same feeling Frank had tried so hard to fight had instantly returned to his loins. He resumed to silently waking Gerard up instead, fearing that if he spoke he would betray all that he was trying to hide. Frank tried once more at physically waking him up, but Gerard moaned an, "Oh, God," when Frank's hands made contact with his chest once more. Frank wanted to touch himself now , but he was still nervous about what a creep Gerard might think him to be. Although, to see—or should he say 'hear'—that Gerard was having a wet dream of him would make it less creepy on Frank's part, wouldn't it?

Shaking the tempting offer from his head, Frank urged Gerard one final time. If he didn't wake up now, he was going to leave him and go to the bathroom, damn it.

"Gerard, wake up," he had lightly demanded, and that was when Gerard had sprung up and knocked him off the bed and onto the floor.

Gerard sat in the bed, eye-ing Frank as Frank stifled in yet another giggle, replaying the night's events and Gerard's apparent dream.

"You heard me, didn't you?" Gerard embarrassingly asked, referring to his moaning. Frank gave a mischievous grin and patted Gerard's lower stomach as he rose to go to the bathroom, getting awfully close to Gerard's boner.

"Let's just say that I need to use the bathroom now," Frank joked, and Gerard chuckled nervously as Frank left him alone in the room to attend to his business that he had sprung on him.


	32. A Phone Call

**A Phone Call**

Collected within his thoughts, Pete never did call Gerard at eleven. Instead, he stayed up all night, thinking of ways to urge the kidnapper home, without getting anyone into trouble.

Besides Frank, of course.

He stood alone in the bus booth, waiting for it to arrive. He had gone down to the Way Brother's household once, but he was tempted to visit again, just to see how the Way brother was holding off. The younger brother had seemed pretty pissed at Gerard earlier...maybe he could use that to his advantage.

Another day passed and Pete sighed as he shoved his hands down his pocket, taking a deep breath of the cool October air. Frank had been gone for about two months now, and things were not looking so good to Pete. Maybe the idea that Frank was only acting up because of Gerard being fired was plausible now to the Ieros, but it would only be plausible for a short period of time.

He took a step into the bus, paying the two-dollar toll to enter and he sat in the middle among a group of loosely dressed teenage girls. They were huddled around in a circle, whispering gossip to one another about their boyfriends, who was 'good' (whatever that meant) or 'bad,' etc. Pete chuckled in his seat as he heard their discussion. They reminded him so much of Tina.

Five minutes into the ride, the girls got off and Pete stretched his arms with the new space he had. While it was refreshing, he still had his mind on those two people, and he was still having trouble finding a way to lure them back. Frank's birthday was coming soon, Pete realized as the image of a jack-o-lantern revealed itself from beneath his sleeves. He couldn't believe he had almost forgotten.

He knew what he was planning to give Frank for his birthday as of two months ago, but as of now, he would probably reject the offer, an offer that he would have jumped at had Gerard not come into the picture: the birthday gift that was the proposal to stay with Pete and enter within the business with him as well.

Five stops later, Pete exited the bus and casually made his way to the towering poverty stricken apartment, making sure not to stub his sneakers into any broken glass that was on the floor. Opening the door to the entrance lobby, Peter then stepped inside and noticed how dim and dreary the place was. He had thought it only held that image because it had been dark when he last visited, but as he saw now, he was proven wrong.

Fortunately for Mikey, he was at work when Pete tried to enter. Frustrated at Mikey's absence, Pete kicked the door before sitting at the entrance of the room, muttering to himself.

Now what? Gerard would probably not answer his phone anymore, and Frank's was always off. If that little twit had kept it on, he would have come back home earlier, and all this could be solved. But Gerard had to interfere, and now that was not the case.

In one last desperate attempt, Pete got his phone out and called Gerard. There was no point in the 12-hour delay that had ensued. Pete was still in the same condition he was in when he started: fucked.

The phone line rang three times before Gerard miraculously picked up.  


* * *

Gerard woke up to yet another blaring sound of the 'Prison' Documentary theme song on as he felt Frank lying by his feet on the bed. Confused and slightly annoyed at the volume of the show, Gerard sat up, muttering to himself. Frank was too entranced to look away, and by the looks of it, he had been up for a while. He also had his hands covering his ears. Either that, or he was holding his head.

_Or_ he was dazed again, thinking about 'things,' as he would call them.

"Hey Frankie," Gerard croaked, and Frank shuffled his position as he unintentionally ignored Gerard. Gerard chuckled at his behavior and a little bit more loudly rasped, "Hey Frankie." Again, Frank was quiet, and he would not remove his hands from his ears. Gerard took hold of his pillow, tired of being ignored, and threw it at Frank's head, causing the younger boy to giggle uncontrollably and meet Gerard's eyes with his own.

"A simple 'Hey Frankie' would have been good," Frank laughed, pulling his eyes away from the screen.

"Well, apparently not," Gerard smugly replied, his voice getting better by the moment and with each passing word. "I did that already. Twice."

"Maybe you weren't loud enough."

"I was loud enough," Gerard said, coming to his defense. "Maybe you were covering your ears so it's not my fault," Gerard teased, and Frank blushed, keeping his hands by his ears and rubbing them slowly. He eventually stuck his tongue out at him.

"So, is this what you've been doing all night?" Gerard asked, sitting up. "Watching..."

"That Prison thing," Frank said, becoming entranced once again. "It's pretty...interesting," he said, rubbing his ears gently.

"Why are you watching it?" Gerard asked. "And what's up with your ears?"

"Nothing...your voice just annoys me," Frank joked, and Gerard feigned surprise. At that moment, his cell phone rang and his eyes widened as he realized who it must've been. Frank immediately started to apologize at Gerard's expression, but Gerard shrugged him off.

"It's...It's not you," Gerard explained, reaching for his phone and Frank's heart fell when he realized who it could have been that had Gerard so worried.

Gerard looked at the caller ID and it was verified; it was Pete. But hadn't he texted him that he would call at eleven yesterday?

_Then again_, Gerard reasoned, _he never said A.M. or P.M...or maybe he did_?

"Fuck," he muttered. It was safer to pick it up anyway, just in case.

Frank remained pinned at the edge of the bed, watching Gerard frantically get out of the bed, staring at the clock and putting on some clothes. Was it Pete, Gerard's business friend/dude? Why was he being called? Frank desperately hoped that it was not anything too serious about his job. He didn't know what he'd do if Gerard was going to get fired. Pete would then definitely find out.

Gerard ran his hands through his hair and he headed for the door. Frank sat in the bed, peering at the door. Gerard caught his lonesome glance as he opened his cell phone. Frank's eyes locked with Gerard's and he used the chance to verify his own beliefs.

"Is that Pete?" he timidly asked, and Gerard grimly nodded.

"He, um...told me he'd call but I never...I must've forgotten..." he mumbled incoherently. Frank simply nodded, trying to focus his attention on the television documentary before him. Gerard had a business call to deal with. Frank just hoped he wasn't getting fired because of him.

"I'll be back," Gerard started, but Frank smiled understandingly.

"Go do what you gotta do," Frank said, hitting the bed. "I'll stay here." He covered his ears once more, not wanting to ruin the gruesome surprise. "Besides, your voice bothers me!"

"Just don't do anything stupid while I'm gone," he retaliated, and Frank stuck his tongue out at him once more.

It was only until Gerard was about to shut the door when Frank rubbed his cartilage saying, "It's a little too late." Gerard gave a little chuckle at Frank's remark, but had he actually stayed behind, he would have seen Frank remove his hands from his ears to reveal two new home-made/created ear piercings.

* * *

"Pete?" Gerard dared ask into the receiver once he was outside, on top of the motel building.

"Hey," Pete sweetly greeted him on the other end, making Gerard roll his eyes. "Long time, isn't it?"

Anger boiled inside Gerard to know what Pete had done, and how calm he was about it. "So is it true?" Gerard hastily demanded to know.

"What's true, babe?" Pete asked, smiling on the other end. Gerard could hear it from his voice. If he wasn't smiling, he was at least about to laugh. The bastard was _laughing_ .

Gerard's jaw clenched as he spat, "You _know_ what." The venom was evident in his voice, and Pete could see that. He couldn't help but let his smile broaden. He was fully aware of what Gerard was talking about. Frank must've opened his mouth again. Although, he couldn't fully blame Frank, being that he had always instructed Frank to do so anyway.

"Where was that sexy voice of yours when we were fucking last time, babe?" Pete teasingly asked. Gerard paced around, spewing out incoherent babble. This guy had sex on the mind 24/7! And that made him fucking dangerous. What made him more dangerous is the fact that he never saw anything wrong with his actions.

"I'm not kidding, Pete," Gerard warned him, walking by the edge of the building top.

"And neither am I," Pete retaliated. Finally, he decided it was enough foreplay and he wanted to get to the point. "I want my bitch back. I wasted time and energy on that fuck."

"I'm not giving him back to you," Gerard incredulously replied, pulling his hair. Was Pete crazy? Well, he already knew the answer to that. Pete started snickering, and Gerard angrily continued. "I don't see how you find this funny, Pete. You've been hurting Frankie."

"Okay, okay," Pete said, snickering once more. "Two things, hun. One, since when has Frank become 'Frankie'?" Gerard didn't answer, but merely huffed on the opposite end, and Pete gave another chuckle. Frank was making him soft, eh? He went on, continuing, "And I haven't been hurting him."

"What do you mean you haven't been hurting him?" Gerard asked, disbelievingly. "You've been abusing him since he was a teen!"

"I haven't been abusing him," Pete said. "We've been _fucking_ , sweetie. Don't you know the difference?"

"I know that what you've been doing is illegal," Gerard shot back threateningly. Pete gave a snort.

"And I'm sure the fucking you two have been doing is illegal, too," Pete said. "But we're not here to exchange fuck stories...or are we?"

"What?" Gerard asked, taken aback.

"Oh, please," Pete scoffed. "I'm not stupid. I'm sure you have a lot to say...it's been almost two months now, has it? That should be plenty..."

"We _haven't_ ," Gerard sternly insisted.

"Stop bullshitting," Pete angrily interrupted. "Fuck, I'm not going to get mad at you or anything. I kinda already figured it was gonna—''

"I'm not you," Gerard interrupted.

"It doesn't matter if you're me or not," Pete threw back. "If you're a well-functioned human being, then you'll naturally see how Frank is sex on legs. I was just helping him open his eyes to his potential. But _someone_ had to take him away from me and ruin the transformation."

"You were _helping_ him?" Gerard shouted in anger. "Pete, taking away a child's innocence is not helping them. Especially someone as confused and lost as Frankie was." Pete started to snicker again at the mention of 'Frankie' but Gerard went on, ignoring him. "You're a sick bastard. Why would you take stuff out on a little kid?"

"Sure, like you're any better than me, Arthur—I mean, Gerard," Pete scoffed. "You took Frank from me because you knew all about his troubles, and about _us_ . You just naturally wanted to play good Samaritan and help out poor innocent 'Frankie.' Well guess what? I'm no fucking idiot, and I know what you took Frank for. Time's up, you got your money's worth, so let him come back home."

_Time's up, you got your money's worth_, echoed through Gerard's head. Those teasing words had been said to him whenever the two of them had a 'meeting.' He didn't reply, though, his mind still stuck on what Pete had said. Was he as bad as Pete? Could that have been the reason why Frank was hesitant to ask him to be his boyfriend?

"You know," Pete went on, distracted by his own thoughts, "you would have met Frank soon enough had you just waited. You know that I planned on him joining. In fact...how about we strike a deal? You bring him back, you can still work for me, and I'll put Frank into the business? You and 'Frankie' can fuck all you want, but I just need him home."

"You're disgusting," Gerard said in awe. "Frankie came to you out of trust. And this is all you think about is—''

"Well, it's obvious that he doesn't know me too well, then," Pete said, shrugging on the other end.

"Well sue him for believing that human beings have a heart," Gerard retaliated.

"I do have a heart," Pete lamely said. "But I also have a penis, Gerard. And I have fantasies, too. You should know."

"But you should realize that it's a kid you're taking this out on," Gerard replied. "For me, I'm responsible for my actions, but you're responsible for his—''

"Which is why I _tell_ him what to do," Pete interrupted, oblivious to Gerard's point. Gerard gave a sigh. There was no way Pete was going to understand him, and there was definitely no way Gerard was going to give Frank back into the hands of that demon.

"Hey," Pete said, interrupting Gerard's thoughts. "So...you're telling me that Frank told you about me?" Gerard could see that he was still pondering over it, but he wasn't sure if that was out of pure curiosity or anger.

"That's a surprise," Pete went on, without Gerard's response. "He's always a shy kid around me."

"I wonder why?" Gerard questioned, his voice full of sarcasm.

"What'd you tell him to talk to you?" Pete continued to wonder out loud. "He used to be open with me, but then I had to force him, physically..."

"Are you talking about Frank opening up, as in...?" Gerard asked, and Pete snickered.

"Frank may not know me as well as he should, but you?" Pete laughed. "What do you _think_ I mean?"

"Maybe that's why he's so fucking shy then," Gerard said, annoyed at how right Pete was. To know that he understood what Pete was possibly thinking about _did_ make him as bad as Pete.

"So are you telling me this from experience, or...?"

"Shut up and fuck off," Gerard said, annoyed at how the conversation was unraveling. If he didn't know better himself, their last few comments to each other sounded as if they were friends. That was craziness, and it was bothering him how calmly they were now speaking to each other.

"I can't 'fuck off' without my sex toy and my client 'Arthur,'" Pete said, annoyed. "So if you don't mind, I'd like my sex toy back. And I'd like Arthur back too. Or should I call you Gerard?"

"Frankie is _not_ your sex toy—''

"Oh, that's right," Pete said. "He's yours . You always have to be so fucking greedy. Why can't we share him?"

"Don't even _go_ there—''

"No, honestly," Pete went on. "How many times have you guys fucked? And has he fucked you, or you him?" Gerard shook his head at Pete's obvious interest on the gossip, even though there was none and Gerard was hoping to keep it that way just to spite him.

"Does he give you a good blow job?" he continued. "And ass-fucking should be fun, considering how small he is...and when I say 'small,' I mean his physique. _Not_ his—''

"Pete, stop it," Gerard demanded. How could he just sit there and talk about Frank like that? "What's wrong with you?" he sputtered.

"Isn't it making you come when you envision him taking you wholly into his small mouth?" Pete asked, seductively describing all the Gerard secretly wanted. It was very scary and nerve-wracking to see Pete's effect. Unfortunately, he was now convinced that he was _definitely_ as bad as Pete.

"He'd suck you dry, believe me," Pete continued, much to Gerard's dismay and hidden hope. "He's a fast learner. He'll play with your tip for a good while before he gets serious. And he can deep-throat, something I taught him...or should I say, he 'learned over time.' And he'd let you shove yourself as deep as you need to, too. He has his own thing of doing it really good so it's as short as possible. He thinks I don't know. But that's the same reason why he doesn't speak at all, 'cause he hates it. But what do you care, right? All you need it a good fix, and if he does that well enough, it's all good. "

That last comments snapped Gerard out of it. Frank might have done those things, but he was forced. Never did Gerard want to force Frank to do things he didn't want to do. If anything, maybe that was the difference between him and Pete.

"Pete, stop it," Gerard pleaded.

"And you probably know how he'll let you ride him, right?" Pete continued. "He hasn't been too open about riding someone else, though. But I'm sure you've probably fixed that problem."

"We haven't done anything! Fuck!" Gerard shouted.

"I know you guys have fucked," Pete continued nonchalantly. "I just think you oughtta give him back and stop being greedy—''

"Pete...this is a human being we're talking about here, okay?" Gerard said, clearly annoyed that he had let it go this far.

"You're secretly enjoying it," Pete said, shrugging on the other end. "Or," he smugly added, "you would have hung up a while ago...you know, we're not that different, Gerard."

"You called me for something?" Gerard coldly asked, getting to the point and trying to avoid that area of conversation.

"Haha, Gerard," Pete dryly laughed, noticing that Gerard was trying to get off topic. "We're talking about Frank. That's why I called. I want my fuck toy back, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Gerard said. "It's not okay that—''

"I'm able to do the things to Frank that you can only dream about?" Pete burst in, once again. Gerard's voice got caught in his throat. Pete continued, having found the flaw in Gerard.

"Even if you don't fuck Frank, Gee—''

"Gerard," he corrected him, finding his voice again.

"Gee," Pete repeated, ignoring him. "You still think of those things being done to him by you, or you by him, and that's just as bad," Pete reprimanded him. Gerard fumbled with the hem of his shirt, letting Pete's words get to him.

_Then again, since when did Pete's words matter_?

But Gerard still wasn't so sure. He was beginning to find similarities between the two of them, no matter how trivial.

"Listen, Gerard," Pete persisted, thinking that he had won the battle. "If I don't get Frank back, his parents are gonna notice..."

"Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Iero!" Gerard said, his voice full of sarcasm. That was a nice distraction from his thoughts. "Such wonderful parents to realize that Frank's been gone for two months now! Hurray!"

"...and I can promise you, Gerard," Pete continued, getting serious, "that if you don't do so willingly _now_ , you will later."

"Is that a threat?" Gerard asked, shaking his head at Pete's immaturity level. Did he think that was going to scare Gerard? An empty threat? Didn't he make one regarding Mikey a few nights ago? And nothing happened then.

"I mean it, Aurthur," Pete said in the voice that meant he was strictly business. "I'm right outside Mikey's fucking apartment. You're lucky shit-face isn't here."

"Pete...leave Mikey out of it," Gerard said, his composure faltering. "Mikey hasn't done anything. Don't ruin his life because of me."

"Then stop ruining _mine_ ," Pete demanded, "and give Frank back to me."

"You're torturing him," Gerard said. "There's no fucking way I'm just going to hand him over."

"Is that what you want?" Pete asked, sighing in annoyance. "You want me to make you choose? Alrighty then. Mikey or 'Frankie'?"

"Fuck off," Gerard spat, unable to make the choice. He loved Mikey, but he was becoming attached to Frank, and needed to be there to support him and take care of him. With this in mind, Gerard swiftly (without giving it another thought) ended the conversation, which left Pete boiling with rage at the front of Mikey's apartment. Pete cursed at Gerard's boldness.

Had Gerard thought that he was bluffing? Did he not honestly believe that he was outside his apartment building at this moment?

After a few moments of angry puffing, Pete came to the conclusion that Gerard was not a believer, and he would have to find out that Pete meant business the hard way...


	33. Piercing

**Piercing**

With a shaky hand, Gerard tucked the phone in his back pocket, reviewing what had just occurred again in his head.

Pete was actually in trouble, and he needed Frank back from him. He even went as far as to say that both he and Gerard were the same, and then he went even _further_ telling Gerard to pick between Mikey and Frank. Gerard couldn't bring himself to do it, and he knew he sounded like a bad brother, but still. Mikey wouldn't do anything stupid, would he? He could always ask or strongly urge Mikey to move back in with their parents. Besides, Mikey was a grown man. He could fend off for himself. Frank, on the other hand, needed him, and he needed Frank.

_We're the same_ , repeated itself in Gerard's mind as he entered the building to be with Frank again. He needed to shake that silly notion from his head. They _weren't_ the same.

Right?

* * *

Back inside, Frank rubbed his ears tenderly one last time before resigning them on to the bed. They hurt like crazy, but he told himself he'd endure the pain, because Gerard was worth it.

Yup, _Gerard_ was the reason why he decided to pierce his ears by himself. Well, he couldn't give all the thanks to Gerard. Whether he wanted to or not, an ounce of acknowledgment had to go to the Prison show/marathon airing on T.V., because that's where Frank had gotten his idea.

It had been a few hours after Gerard had fallen asleep, around 1:00 A.M. Yet another show came on (it had been a marathon for the ten year anniversary) and Frank was caught up in his thoughts about the possibility of Gerard ending up in prison somewhere.

Going to prison in itself was bad, but what made it worse what that he'd be going on charges (most probably) of kidnap and child molestation. Those two offenses even upset _prisoners_ , and the ones convicted of those actions got beat up or killed by the inmates. Serial murders even had an easier time in prison compared to the child offenders. Their lives became immediate hell. There was even speculation going about that some states were considering _death_ as a punishment for child offenders. Gerard didn't belong in that crowd.

With the nervousness nipping at him, Frank took off his t-shirt to air out. He was sweating profusely after watching a couple of shows. Though it was true that not all of the shows were about child molesters, it was evident that child molesters were not well liked through the documentaries about 'serial murderers' and 'robbers' when the show had unplanned interruptions with fights breaking out because of a group of inmates attacking a child offender. To make matters worse, there was one show dedicated to rapists _only_ as well.

While Frank watched, his eyes glued to the screen, he began to think of the worst. What if Gerard and he got caught? It was pretty evident so far that Gerard planned on keeping Frank as innocent as possible until Frank was of age. But Frank was scared that they'd get caught soon. They were bound to, with Gerard's friend from work calling him more frequently. And he was nervous that they would be brought back in the blink of an eye, except Gerard would be in jail and he would be stuck with Pete. All he would have of Gerard would be memories of the two of them together.

Frank wanted more than that. He wanted Gerard to be more than just a memory. The option of getting a tattoo with him was still an option, but Frank wasn't too sure if that would be the best way. Maybe the both of them could get one...but he wasn't sure if Gerard would want one, though...

_Because he, unlike you, doesn't want to remember the person who stuck him in jail_ , Frank couldn't help thinking to himself. He quickly erased that doubt he had when he heard Gerard sleepily mumble while he asked if Frank was still awake. Frank told him he was awake and still watching T.V.

"Come'n sleep," Gerard said drowsily, patting a random spot on the bed.

"Okay," Frank absently said, in hopes of luring Gerard back to sleep. It worked, but only for a while. Gerard called him back again when the show came back on.

"Don't worry your pretty little face over that, 'kay?" he said, groggily sitting up. Frank sighed.

"I'm coming," Frank mumbled, sitting up himself from his comfortable position. He froze, though, as soon as the narrator opened up a segment on 'prison art.'

Tattoos were one of them.

Frank had his own share of tattoos. He had two on him, although he had wanted more. One was a tattoo of his name on his back, while the other was a tattoo of a jack-o-lantern. Pete had taken him to the tattoo parlor and he had taken the tattoo of the jack-o-lantern as well, so that both he and Frank would be bonded together. At the time, Pete had convinced him it was the best thing to do, but now he wanted to be rid of it. Not that it would be too much of a problem. Tattoos were removable nowadays, right? He'd just remove it, then.

"I'll be waiting," Gerard woozily warned as Frank eventually got up and headed to the bathroom. But by the time Frank came back out, Gerard was already knocked out. He had to stifle in a giggle at the cute sight of Gerard's sleepy position and the fact that he made a futile promise he knew he wouldn't be able to keep in this state. But Gerard made it evident that Frank's sleep was still important to him. How could Frank have ever thought about Gerard hating him?

It was when Frank's quiet laughter died down that the prison art form changed and shifted to that of piercing, one thing that caught Frank's attention. He had only one piercing on his nose, and he had always wanted more. But he didn't want to because he was nervous Pete would come along the second time and get piercing to match his own. His piercing were the one things he wanted to be unique and his own. Even though he had gone with Pete for the first one, the piercing had been his own choice, and completely individual.

"It's like you have no say in anything no more, y'know?" an individual complained on the documentary. "It's like they _own_ you now. You not your own man no more. They tell you when to sleep, when to eat... It's crazy in here, man."

"_Bernard has been in confinement for ten years for the brutal rape and murder of a ten year old girl_," the narrator went on to inform the viewers. "_He was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole_."

Frank slowly stopped his movement, paying attention to the damning information on the screen. The guy, he noticed, had multiple piercing on him, and Frank wondered how he had gotten them there. According to the previous photos they had shown of Bernard, he seemed to be a clean-shaven young man. But now, there were multiple holes in his ears, nose, eyebrows, tongue, and _cheek_ even. The man had, no doubt, fallen crazy during his ten-year-plus stay.

"They try and _control_ you," Bernard said, widening his eyes for effect. It was a pretty scary sight, because in the next second, Bernard started cackling, making the holes empty of rings stretch on his punctured face.

"But they couldn't control _this_ ," he continued to hoot, motioning to his perforated face.

"_This_," explained the narrator, "_is another popular form of art here at the confinement, since the items needed are within reach to the inmates._"

"All the piercings have been done by me," Bernard bragged to the camera. "It's really easy. All you need is ice, a hanger, and some guts. 'Nuff said."

"A hanger, huh?" Frank thought aloud to himself, his eyes immediately scanning the closet. It was the perfect idea to do homemade piercing. His mind traveled back to yesterday, when he found out about Gerard's secret prostitution. It was a plausible idea or situation for anyone, he knew, but Gerard wasn't 'anyone.' Gerard was special, and he deserved something more. What good would be Frank's piercing if he went out and had some specialist do it? How boring and regular.

Why not at home, and have the piercing be as unique as Gerard was to him?

Tattoos were made from ink, but could be removed. And since Frank wanted to achieve remembrance of Gerard forever, tattoos were out of the question. Piercings were the only answer.

Piercings are forever.

Frank quietly headed to the refrigerator and took out a whole bunch of ice, dumping it in the sink. As Frank had predicted, Gerard stayed asleep through it all. He tiptoed to the closet and took out a hanger that had a fairly sharp end at the hook, hoping to achieve the quickest and swiftest insertion possible.

Frank also took a lot of tissues and napkins for the blood, and he knew there was going to be a lot of it if he screwed up. But that didn't defer him. At least, not too much.

"This is not amateur stuff though," the inmate said, flashing his infinite tongue piercing. Frank continued gathering up the materials as he watched the television show through the mirror in the bathroom. He was almost set to go. He had all the ice he needed to numb it, he had the sharp hanger, and he was sure he had the guts to do it...but Bernard began to speak once more, diminishing the little willpower Frank already had.

"One slip up and you mess up your pretty *beep*ing _ear_ , man!" Bernard taunted Frank, laughing once more before the show pulled off for commercial break.

_He's right_ , Frank caught himself thinking, giving in to the taunt. _One slip up and_ —

"And _what_ ?" Frank asked aloud to himself. " 'You mess up your pretty little ear'? You've just ruined a man's life." And with that new wave of resolve, Frank took the first block of ice as firmly held it to his earlobe, numbing it...

Frank gave a sigh as he remembered the early morning's events and he stared at the screen, waiting for Gerard to come back. He had done a good job with the pierce, if he did say so himself, but it was only because of how well he had numbed his ears. He had wanted to even show Gerard the piercing in hopes that Gerard would be touched by his actions and allow them to go out shopping for earrings. Of course, Gerard would get to pick them out.

However, his eyes began to droop, demanding to get some rest from staring at the screen continuously for several hours, though he had wanted to try and stay awake. He was scared of going to sleep and then accidentally sleeping on his lobes. He was scared the paperclips he put in them (his ghetto earrings at the moment to ensure the holes stayed open) would hook on to something else, messing up his pierce. He couldn't help himself, though, when his hands refused to hold his head up and he decided to lightly rest his head on his arm. And in the inviting position, he couldn't help but get comfortable and allow his eyes to close.

He wasn't sleeping, no. He was just relaxing his head, his eyes, his ears, his mind...

* * *

Gerard entered room 16 to see a completely knocked out Frank on the bed. The television show that Frank had found last night was still on, and it was blaring. Gerard immediately recalled that before he had gone, Frank had been holding and rubbing his ears. Gerard went over to the television and put it off, in hopes of bettering Frank's ears. Had it been because of the T.V.?

Shifting his attention an shaking the doubts he had of himself from his head earlier on, Gerard went to the bathroom, grabbing a cup and taking some water from the sink. He found himself glancing around the room, though, because it seemed like things were a whole lot cleaner than he had remembered them. The towels and napkins, tissues, etc. were now neatly put away and back, compared to the messy bench that they had always resided on.

The sink was pretty clean, too, compared to the brownish tint they had when he and Frank had first come by. Not to mention the fact that the bathroom's garbage was cleaned. There was not a single item that was astray.

Was this what Frank had been doing when Gerard was sleeping? If Gerard could remember correctly, he had woken up for a brief period and told Frank to sleep. He never remembered Frank actually coming to bed. But he _did_ remember Frank heading off into the bathroom, before he dosed off again.

A small smile made its way to Gerard's lips. Frank was such a sweet child, but he didn't have to do this. They were _both_ living here, so whatever mess that was in the bathroom was just as much Gerard's, if not more. He couldn't help but feel that Frank had been treated to clean messes all the time while he was at home. For example, Gerard's first day on the job as his baby-sitter, Frank had been yelling at his dad for never thinking he was good enough at anything. Frank had wanted to tell his parents something important, but he kept getting rejected with more work to do, primarily, cleaning up the house.

He left the bathroom, shutting off the light when he stumbled across a hanger on the floor. He picked it up, placing it back in the closet, before heading to the refrigerator for an ice-cube in his drink of water. Unfortunately, the ice in there had just been made, so he was going to have to wait a while for the ice, but he didn't mind. But he could have sworn that they had a lot more than just that before...

Checking his watch, Gerard decided it would be okay for him to call up Mikey. Mikey was supposed to be visiting them by the end of the week, but Gerard wanted to make a visit of his own. He had to admit that the visit was more based on what Pete had said, rather than just a brotherly reunion.

"_Mikey or 'Frankie'?_" Pete had asked. Well, he hoped it was clear that he was choosing Mikey by coming back into the area. He was unsure, though, how Frank would react. Would he think of it as betrayal?

He wasn't going to hand Frank over, though. He had hoped that with the visit to Mikey, Frank would hopefully gather the courage to tell his parents the truth about Pete, so that he would be able to stay home with Pete locked away somewhere, and Gerard could come back home, too.

It would work out for the both of them that way also. They'd be able to have somewhat of a more normal relationship, with Gerard picking him up and sending him places without having to worry that someone will recognize them and call the police. Frank and Mikey would meet together and hopefully become great friends while he and Frank would strengthen their relationship, without a care in the world.

And if worse came to worse, the visit to Mikey's would just simply be a visit and nothing more, and Frank and Gerard would return back to the motel. He wasn't going to push Frank to do anything he didn't want to do. He was not—and _refused_ to be—anything like Pete to Frank.

Taking a defeated seat by Frank's resting body, Gerard called Mikey. While he waited for Mikey to pick up, he shifted his position so that he could hold Frank while he slept. He gently lifted Frank's head and placed his head on his lap, brushing Frank's hair with his hands when Mikey's answering machine went on.

_"Um…either we're not here, or we're too lazy to pick up the phone, so…yeah." Beep_ .

"Hey, Mikey? It's Gerard," Gerard started, and he became awkwardly silent. He remembered instantly the first time he was assigned to watch Frank and he had been so disappointed. He had called Mikey then and left a message. Now, he was watching Frank on his own will and he couldn't be happier. The funny thing was, here he was again, about to leave a message. The last time he had done so was to complain about his job. This time, it would be to inform Mikey of a burst in on both his and Frank's behalf. In other words, more or less, now he'd be calling Mikey to brag about his job...in a sense.

"Well, Mikes," Gerard said, starting up once again as Frank awoke. Looking at Frank's cute and groggy face, Gerard's smile broadened as he sang, "Have I got a surprise for you."

* * *

_Surprise? What was Gerard talking about_? Frank immediately wondered as he struggled to sit up and see the time. To his disappointment, he saw that he had only fallen asleep for one hour, if not less.

He raised his head and looked around to see that the television was now off and he was now in Gerard's lap, his hair and head being pampered with attention by Gerard's hands. Finally looking back at Gerard, Frank mumbled a sluggish, "Hi," throwing Gerard a very lopsided grin.

"Hey, Frankie," Gerard cheerily said, in a tone that made Frank feel like he was in kindergarten all over again. Gerard's excess cheerfulness made Frank smile even more. Gerard then cupped Frank's head in his hands, reaching down to kiss Frank's forehead when Frank felt a stinging pain in his right ear, wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with a look of agony.

"OW!" Frank shouted, his own hands immediately lifting to soothe it. Gerard backed away immediately as well, confused by Frank's sudden outburst. He began to understand though when Frank's eyes met his dejectedly.

"I'm sorry—''

"What happened to your ears?!" Gerard interrupted, not paying any mind to Frank's apology and coming closer again. Frank flinched, but Gerard never touched them, instead, inspecting them from a view.

"Wow," Gerard murmured, half in awe and half in fear of the things hanging down from his boyfriend's ears. "Frank?" he asked, expecting an explanation.

"I, uh..." Frank couldn't get much out, from the lack of use of his voice that morning.

"Your ears are...red," Gerard said. He wasn't all too sure if that was the only thing off, though. Honestly, he had never noticed Frank having pierced ears, but just in case Frank had already pierced his ears, he didn't want to seem unobservant, so he leaned in even more when he saw the freshly puncture wounds. He immediately gave a gasp.

"I...pierced them, yeah," Frank admitted, and Gerard was flabbergasted.

"W-when?"

"Last night," Frank said robotically, already embracing himself for Gerard's shouts of disapproval.

"H-how?" Gerard asked. "Last night...? Did you leave?" Frank shook his head, waiting for Gerard to grasp the full understanding of what happened last night. "But if you didn't leave, that only means...Oh. God."

Frank sat there, ready to take on anything Gerard decided to throw at him, although, he had to admit that he was hoping he would not have to.

"You _stabbed_ your ears!" Gerard angrily shouted, and Frank grimaced at his reaction. "You fucking stabbed them! Do you know what could have happened, Frankie? Why would you...? I don't understand! I would have sent you!"

"And risk you getting caught and arrested?" Frank asked, struggling to find enough voice to match Gerard's, although he couldn't. "All because of a stupid hole in my ear? I think not."

"And what the hell do you have in there?" Gerard went on ranting.

"Paper clips," Frank said shamelessly, giving it another go at reaching Gerard's voice level. "I needed to put it in...I don't want it to heal."

"Infections!" Gerard cried, still surprised that Frank had the guts to do what he did. He had to stab himself with a fucking needle or something grossly similar in order to do that. Didn't Frank realize how big that was?

"I don't know if it counts, but I wiped the hanger down with alcohol pads," Frank said, truly disappointed at himself for disappointing Gerard. It didn't seem like Gerard was accepting of it at all. Frank's realization could be seen through his lack of voice projection. Gerard's eyes widened at the memory of the hanger that he stepped over when he left the bathroom.

"A _hanger_ ?" Gerard asked in disbelief, and Frank nodded with the tears in his eyes at this point. "What the fuck is _wrong_ with you, Frankie? Did you not care at all for your health? Your life? Did you want to end up _dead_ ? I want a _living_ Frankie, not one who dies because of a fucking needle! I can't even believe you did this...it's a _needle_ , Frankie! Do you know how scary that is? Why on Earth would you...?"

"I wanted to do it...as a m-memory of y-you, in s-s-some way," Frank sniffled, angry with himself and how stupid his reason sounded. "I mean, I w-was thinking of a tattoo—''

Gerard visibly shuddered.

"—and I d-didn't want that b-bec-cause tat-ttoos can be rem-moved n-now," Frank continued, his blurry eyes blocking him from witnessing Gerard's reaction to the mention of the tattooing. "So I f-figured I'd pierce it m-myself. I thought i-it would b-be more special that w-way."

"More pain makes it more special? Higher rate of infections? Even death?" Gerard asked, exaggerating his point, despite the fact that he was touched by Frank's apparent dedication. Frank had stabbed himself for _him_ ? He wasn't worth the pain Frank was going through. Gerard neared Frank to hold him but Frank retreated, expecting harsh physical contact from Gerard.

"Does it hurt?" Gerard asked gently, changing his tone after letting himself cool down from his panic attack. Frank shook his head, which Gerard was sure was a lie.

"I'm sorry," Frank said, and Gerard shrugged it off.

"Why are _you_ sorry?" Gerard asked. "Do you know what I have apparently just made you do?"

"What?" Frank asked, completely confused now.

"You don't know the monster you're doing this for, Frankie," Gerard admitted. It was his closest confession to working with Pete. He was sure Frank would be discouraged to find out that the person whom he had stabbed himself for was secretly hurting _him_ by still associating with Pete, and keeping it undisclosed.

"Shut it, Gerard," Frank said in a much bolder tone than the one he had been using. He became extremely angry at what Gerard was saying. Gerard was _not_ monster, and he would not allow anyone to say so, not even Gerard himself. "I know who I did it for and why I did it," Frank elaborated, wiping any remnants of his tears as his voice got stronger. "I did it for a man who gave a shit about me when no one else would, as cliché as that might seem. He's caring, extremely brave, loving, smart, considerate and, if I may say so, sexy as hell." Frank couldn't help grinning, but he couldn't believe he just used the fact that Gerard was 'sexy as hell' as a best quality. Gerard was definitely able to tell what was on his mind now.

Gerard didn't seem to mind, though, a smile breaking out on his face as well. Frank could tell, though, that Gerard understood the points he was trying to make. With the message nonverbally understood, Frank continued, getting into the deeper and more gravitational facts at hand. "He's risked his life for me, a stranger. I'm possibly ruining his life forever. But he's still watching over me. He refuses to get the money he _deserves_ , and wastes his time watching over _me_ , who happens to be pretty fucked up. But he looks past that, and he allows this fucked up kid to be his boyfriend, despite my problems.

"I'm ruining your life, Gerard," Frank honestly said, looking into Gerard's eyes once more. Gerard locked his eyes with Frank's, and Frank knew for sure that they were connected and on the same page. "I'm a parasite," he continued, and Gerard vehemently shook his head. Frank 'shushed' him, caressing Gerard's cheek. "It's only fair that I take the risk to remember you in any way possible, no matter how much pain I endure...not that I am," he quickly added. Tears came to his eyes as he continued on the second part. "But if the way I chose to do it repulses this amazing guy, I'm truly sorry. But I want to remember him permanently, after all this is gone and over. I don't want him to be erased from me. He can yell at me all he wants, call me whatever he wants, and I deserve that, I guess. But I'm not going to let anyone call you less than what you are. And calling yourself a monster is _low_ ."

"Don't say that, Frankie," Gerard demanded, immediately reaching for his broken and self-doubting boyfriend. "I don't hate it," he whispered as Frank welcomed being embraced by him. Frank allowed himself to sob onto his shoulder as Gerard murmured again, "I _don't_ hate it."

"Are you sure?" Frank asked, mumbling into Gerard's shirt. Gerard nodded, running his hands through Frank's hair.

"I just...I hate needles..." Gerard shuddered after he said the noun, and Frank froze. Was his way of honoring Gerard actually torturing him? He could understand a bit more now. If he was scared of needles, it must have been agonizing for him to imagine the sharp steel penetrate Frank's lobes. And he probably must've thought Frank to be insane to do that act to _himself_ , hence the ranting earlier on.

"Oh my god Gee, I'm sorry," Frank said immediately, and Gerard shook his head.

"As long as I don't see it, I'm fine," he smiled, but it faltered as his mind went back to imagining what might've happened. "But I was just imagining you and the hanger, and the stabbing..."

"Piercing," Frank corrected him.

" _Stabbing_ ," Gerard playfully enforced. "I...I guess I was going through the experience in my head." He avoided Frank's eyes, silently apologizing for his outbursts. Frank accepted his apology, slowly leaning into Gerard's hug to kiss him, and Gerard sweetly kissed him back to show his gratefulness. They didn't need words to communicate their feelings. It was in the kiss. The fear, the anger, and now the hope of forgiveness and understanding were now translated into a language only the two of them could understand.

After they pulled away, Gerard added, "You've now become the bravest person I know," and Frank shyly grinned. "You've got balls," Gerard continued, kissing Frank's cheek. "Not just any balls, but _macho_ balls."

Frank giggled uncontrollably at Gerard's comment, blushing furiously in his arms as Gerard continued to pummel him with small kisses.

"But tell me something," Gerard said, eventually pulling away and resigning to twirling his fingers in Frank's hair. "Where's all the blood? I went into the bathroom and it was clean as hell."

"Oh...about that...I couldn't find anything but white napkins and towels..." Frank began to blush even more. "So, you can imagine that they were all stained, yeah?" Gerard nodded, paying attention to Frank's story as he continued. "I, uh...I got the garbage together and stuff and I put it away..."

"Where?"

"In the garbage outside the motel," Frank said. "Don't want them to track us down because of my free blood sample, right?" Gerard nodded in approval with a smile on his face. Frank was pretty smart.

"Did anyone see you?"

"Well, Dan, the guy at the front desk did, and he stared at me funny," Frank admitted.

"What'd he say?" Gerard questioned, and then he changed his question when Frank faltered to answer right away. "Or what did _you_ say to _him_ ?"

"Well, let's just say that if anyone else asks—to make sure that we have the same story—you unexpectedly had your period," Frank giggled, and Gerard laughed at the story his boyfriend concocted.

"Why am _I_ the girl?" Gerard demanded to know, playfully crossing his arms.

"You have the longer hair, Gee, and you're more...graceful...polite..." Frank said, thinking of anything 'feminine' like that came to his head the quickest.

"Stop bullshitting," Gerard chuckled, slightly shoving Frank.

"Ah, but you said so yourself," Frank joked, flexing his biceps playfully as he rebounded from Gerard's shove. Giving the older man a wink, Frank stated, "I'm the one with the ' _macho_ ' balls."


	34. New Earrings

**New Earrings**

"You were talking to Mikey about something?" Frank asked, after coming out of the bathroom to find Gerard closing his cell phone again. Gerard was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved black shirt that fit him loosely. Gerard casually headed on to the coffee table, meeting Frank and giving him another good-morning kiss before answering his boyfriend.

"Yeah," he admitted, looking away from Frank after the kiss. He pretended to pay a lot of attention to the number of dots on the ceiling before continuing with, "I wanted to pay a surprise visit...if that was okay."

"Sure," Frank agreed nonchalantly, tossing his sleeping clothes into the laundry bag and heading over to the bed to sit. "When are we going?"

"You're...you're fine with us going?" Gerard asked, shocked. "You aren't worried at all about seeing Pete?"

"Why should I be?" Frank asked, bringing his legs up and hugging his knees. He lazily ran a hand through his streak of hair before putting it behind his ear, showing a broad display of his latest additions. "If we go and you get caught, you could be going to jail. The worst that'll happen to me is that I'll see someone I don't like. The question is, are you sure you wanna go?"

"I wanna go," Gerard said, regardless of the chances. "I wanted to take the subway...thought it would be more efficient than using the bus. I thought that going underground would be better...more secretive."

"Then Mister Way," said Frank, rising from his seat, "we shall go. Only question left is 'when'?"

"Well, I was kinda debating between today and tomorrow," Gerard said truthfully, biting his lower lip. Frank's eyes immediately averted their attention to that image, and he unconsciously bit his own as well.

"Well, even if we did go today—''

"Wait," Gerard said, drowned in his thoughts and unintentionally interrupting Frank. "We could go tomorrow. I just told him about the idea today anyway, and I got the machine, too. I'd rather give him some time...Although now that I think about it, Mikey's got no life anyway."

"Hey! Don't diss Mikey!" Frank said, coming to the younger Way brother's defense. "You never know. Maybe he's seeing a girl right now as we speak."

"Mikes? Mikey Way?" Gerard tried to hold in his laughter, but failed. Frank stared at him, crossing his arms. Gerard saw him and tried to apologize for his behavior, saying, "I'm sorry, Frankie, but this is Mikey we're talking about."

"But are we going today?" Frank asked, getting back on task and advancing towards the coffee table where Gerard was.

"Nah," Gerard finally decided once Frank reached him. Intertwining their hands, Gerard said, "I think today we go earring shopping for those sexy ears of yours."

"Ears can be sexy?" Frank giggled, completely missing the point. He went up on his tip-toes and kissed Gerard's nose. "Can noses be sexy? Cuz I just kissed one."

"That, you did," Gerard laughed, and he kissed Frank's forehead. "And foreheads are sexy, too," Gerard added, smiling.

"Oh, really?" Frank asked, kissing Gerard's forehead, nose, and then his lips. "I think lips are sexier, though," he insisted to his boyfriend.

"Is that so?" Gerard asked, before gently kissing Frank's lips and trailing down to his neck. "I'd...have to...hold out...on that one," he said between the sucking. Frank gave a shiver before an idea came to his head.

Giving Gerard a lopsided and smug grin, Frank cupped his hands around his boyfriend's perfectly round ass, making Gerard gasp from surprise.

"I'd have to say that my boyfriend's ass is the sexiest of all," he seductively said to a slightly red Gerard, who couldn't stop grinning back at Frank. Frank began to rub his hands in a circular motion over Gerard's ass while Gerard held him closer. "Then again," Frank continued, nonchalantly once more, "that's just me."

"No, it isn't," Gerard said, walking forward and forcing Frank to back up. He couldn't believe that Frank had done grabbed his behind. He wasn't mad at him, but all the same it wasn't expected. But just because it wasn't expected didn't mean it wasn't wanted. "Cuz if someone asked me, I would have said the same thing," Gerard continued.

"You're so conceited," Frank joked as he was covered in kisses, but he understood what Gerard was trying to say.

"I was really...touched...by what you did, baby," Gerard finally admitted aloud about the new addition to his boyfriend's ears as he kissed Frank, and Frank felt himself blush.

"It was quite stupid, actually," Frank started to babble. "I mean, you hate needles, so doing that was kinda ironic because you hate needles or anything that resembles one, yet I chose that way to remember you. And, what good is it if you don't like it anyway? I don't know, it doesn't really matter to me the hanger...the ice and the blood was hard. And you have your period," Frank finished, making absolutely no sense.

"Frankie, shh," Gerard demanded, hugging him. "I love it even more because of that, and we're going earring shopping today, okay?"

"W-we could still visit Mikey…"

"Tomorrow," Gerard definitely decided. "But today is your day, okay? And we're getting rid of those painfully hard paperclips that are on you as soon as possible."

"That's not the only thing that's on me that's painfully hard," Frank teased his boyfriend, and Gerard blushed as he timidly and embarrassedly headed towards the bathroom.

"I think the shopping is gonna have to wait for another five minutes," Gerard said before he entered the bathroom, and Frank giggled once more.

* * *

"Pay attention, Frankie," Gerard said, laughing at Frank as he excitedly ran ahead. "I have no idea how the hell to go back. I don't even know where the hell we're going. Look at the names of the streets over there."

Gerard knew, of course, that Frank wouldn't do this so he did instead while Frank marveled at the idea of taking the subway. He had never been in one, and today would be his first time. He had asked Gerard numerous questions about the subway and how it was operated.

"It's nothing big," Gerard had said. "It's underground, crowded and dingy. It's loud as hell, with the metal scraping against metal, and voices over loudspeakers that confuse the hell out of you...not much, Frankie."

But that wouldn't calm him down. Besides the fact that they were going on the subway, they were also going shopping in New York, a place where Frank's parents always went, although he never had the luxury of traveling there himself. Gerard tried to calm him down about that as well, but that also didn't work.

Luckily enough for Gerard, after an hour of walking, they finally met the entrance to the subway and Frank immediately headed inside. By the time Gerard got down there, Frank's face showed surprise, and Gerard didn't blame him because shock was reflected on his face as well.

Not a body was in sight, give or take the occasional person here and there.

It was such a rare sight to see, although Gerard had to remind himself that they weren't in New York yet, and that once they made it there his descriptions would come to life. They were still in New Jersey, and they were in one of the few known stations in New Jersey to add on to it.

Eventually, Frank slowed down when Gerard told him to and sat down on the abandoned bench in the middle of the station. Gerard soon caught up with him and sat next to Frank instead of standing by the edge. There had been too many 'accidents' of people accidentally getting shoved off by crazy psychopaths, and he didn't need that happening to him now.

Frank immediately rose from his seat to sit in the lap of his boyfriend, and Gerard held him down to remind him that they were in public. They were going to enter New York territory soon. Frank had to get used to the idea that there were very accepting people in NY, but there were just as many homophobes as there were 'supporters.' Besides, he loved Frank with all his heart, and he wanted to show him that. But how the hell would that happen if he did that in front of a few dangerous homophobes and ended up dead?

Frank sat down, catching the meaning of Gerard's caution through his eyes. He sat back down timidly though, still a little embarrassed that he could have forgotten about safety when Gerard rubbed his leg apologetically. Like magic, his hesitant attitude evaporated and he eagerly pointed at the train that noisily passed by. "So are we going on the next train? That one?"

"We're not just going on any train," Gerard explained to his excited boyfriend. "We're going on the C train. That one will lead us to New York—''

"So we're going on C?" Frank asked, about to rise up once more at the site of a new train appearing. Gerard held on to his shirt tightly before Frank ran off.

"Woah, Frankie," he said, pulling on the shirt to bring Frank back to him. "The C train is the one after this. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he said distractedly, eyes roaming the underground community. "Okay." His eyes traveled the subway as the latest train zoomed by them, the noise capturing all his attention.

"Hey, Frankie?" Gerard asked, nervously waiting for his response. Frank nodded indifferently up at Gerard, his eyes still scanning to see when the train would stop at its destination.

"Well, I was wondering," he slowly started. "Before, when you got up to—''

"It's okay," Frank interrupted him, their eyes still not making contact. He could sense Gerard's uneasiness about the earlier brush-off and eventually their eyes met. "I'm okay. I totally understand." When those words didn't even seem to have an impact, he smiled at his boyfriend to show that he honestly didn't mind and Gerard relaxed a bit.

The two sat comfortably with each other for a few more minutes. The train Gerard had thought was theirs was not, and it took a while before the train they needed came. In fact, Gerard almost missed it, busy rubbing Frank's arm every now and then. Had Frank not been excited enough and jumped up when he saw the train, they would have missed it for another thirty minutes or so. They made it on, Gerard trying to catch up with his hyper boyfriend, when he realized that there was nowhere to sit. But of course the driver didn't care and he continued driving the train, leaving Frank to hold on to Gerard and Gerard to hold on to the pole.

Luckily enough for them, Gerard caught a pair empty seats by a group of kids about Frank's age. His eyes lit up as he whispered, "Let's sit over there," to his boyfriend, hoping that the sight of kids his age would somewhat compensate for the two, nearly three, or so months away from society.

Frank naturally agreed, but was hesitant upon seeing the faces of some of his recognizable classmates. At first, he doubted the possibility, but once Frank caught a glimpse of the boy's unmistakable triple nose-ring piercing and the dude's girlfriend, he was sold. The boy that he was about to sit across from was James, one of the school bullies that helped make his life hell.

Fear seized Frank once he recognized the boy and his girlfriend , but it was erased quickly when Gerard held his shoulder and guided him to their designated seats. Frank knew that if he was going to move on and step up from his old life, he had to start now. Now especially, while they were miles away form school, where the true danger lay. James wouldn't think about doing anything to him. He couldn't. There were no lockers here for James to try and shove him into. But maybe James would beat him up while Gerard wasn't looking and stuff him underneath the cushions...

Frank's legs moved as Gerard continued to send them over toward the seats. Once they made it, Gerard sat in the aisle seat while Frank was left to sit inside and directly across from James. For the first couple of seconds, Frank avoided eye-contact from James, nervously playing with the hems of his t-shirt. He would have done so, normally to Gerard's t-shirt, but he remembered that they were in an enclosed space for a long period of time full of people they didn't know. Anyone could have been a severe-chronic-whatever-you-want-to-call-it-homophobe. And though Frank was avoiding the eye-contact, he could still feel the dooming gaze upon him.

It was after Frank pulled out a thread from his hem that he remembered he had a new look, and that was probably the reason why James was staring him down. Now that Frank thought more about it, if James had recognized him he would have said something by now. There had been too many occurrences between the two of them for James not to say something. Frank boldly let his eyes meet James's and everything (tackle after tackle, hit after hit, punch after punch, shove after shove, and most of all bruise after bruise) came back to him.

But none of that seemed to register in James's mind as he continued scanning Frank's look over. And finally, when James seemed to approve of the boy in front of him, he gave Frank a curt nod. Frank remained unmoving and gave James a frighteningly cold stare as he raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow, secretly loving how his new look worked for his advantage. James seemed to be a little scared, and his girlfriend seemed to have little interest in him and a little more interest in Frank.

Gerard sat by the sidelines and watched the silent battle occur between the three teens the whole ride, until the boy and the girl finally got off at their stop. One stop later, Frank seemed to have regained a bit of confidence as well as a girlfriend...according to the number that girl 'accidentally' dropped in Frank's lap as she got up. But Gerard wasn't too nervous because Frank laughed it off as soon as the couple exited the bus.

"I can't believe I just got Jane's number," Frank said in awe, staring down the numbers. After a minute or so, he opened up the neck of Gerard's shirt and placed the small paper inside, patting Gerard's chest lightly. Gerard chuckled as he tried to receive the paper, but he gave up soon enough.

"I saw what was going on," Gerard started, about to apologize for somewhat forcing Frank to sit there before making sure the seat suggestion was okay.

"Awww," Frank cooed, interrupting his boyfriend. He patted Gerard's chest one final time before asking, "Is someone jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous?" Gerard joked, lightly punching Frank in the arm. All it took was a quiet cough to remind Gerard where they were and he backed off and got back on topic.

"I, uh... well, I saw what was going on," Gerard tried again. "Did you two know each other...?"

"Yeah," Frank admitted, going back to messing with his threads. "He was...yeah."

"I take it probably wasn't on good terms, huh?" Gerard sadly asked, tempted to rub Frank's shoulder. Frank gave an apathetic shrug that matched his look. The two of them sat in silence for a while, when Frank pulled up Gerard's shirt and got the number before it fell to the floor. He played with it in his hands for a while before looking up at Gerard with smiling eyes.

"Well," Frank said, waving the piece of paper in front of Gerard, "I got him back now."

Gerard couldn't help but chuckle at the snooty remark his baby made as the train came to a halt at their stop. The two of them exited the train, shoulder by shoulder, as they scoured through the subway.

* * *

Pete hadn't really moved from his position since the phone call. He still couldn't believe how Gerard had just completely blown him off. Had Gerard thought he was joking? He needed Frank back A.S.A.P., and he was dead serious. And if Gerard was going to keep Frank, regardless of what he said, Gerard was just going to have to learn that he meant business the hard way.

He was getting fed up with the two of them, Frank and Gerard, challenging his authority. He liked them better when they had no idea who the other was. They provided him with much better results, anyway.

Pete remained outside the apartment door, still not completely sure with how to punish Gerard. He wasn't going to be laughed at like some stupid joke. But what could he do? Now that Gerard had Frank, it seemed like he had no hold on him anymore. The only reason he had ever come to him was because Pete had spare money for him. But now, he was with a walking ATM machine. What was there now that would bring Gerard back for sure and make him hand Frank over with ease...?

A suggestion hit him like a ton of bricks as he remained sitting outside the younger Way brother's residence, whom Gerard loved with all his heart and would do anything in the world for, if provoked.

As a smile found its way back to Pete's face, he rose to go and get materials before the little brother got home tonight.

Without a doubt, Gerard was definitely coming home now.

* * *

"So we're going earring shopping," Frank said as they stepped off the subway into the busy city. "You have any idea where?"

"Not a clue," Gerard admitted as he followed his boyfriend outside. "Any place, I guess..." He took a look around nervously at the New York City atmosphere, trying to find a place that he'd be able to afford earrings for his baby.

There was a store that caught Frank's attention after five minutes of endless roaming, and he inadvertently slipped away from Gerard's side to enter Catalina's Toys. If he had taken just another moment to read the whole name of the store, he would have seen at the bottom, "Adult novelties and more". But of course, Frank had been distracted by the display of jewels alone in the window and like that, he was gone. Gerard made it to the end of the block and was about to cross when he noticed that he was walking alone, without the small figure beside him. His eyes frantically searched about, not wanting to cause a scene in case Frank was nearby. When he was sure Frank wasn't, he began to shout out his name, waiting for a response.

When none was received, Gerard decided to go back and retrace his steps. He did so for about ten minutes, and he still had no Frankie by his side. The only stores along the block were a couple of drug stores, a cell phone appliance store, a dollar store, and an adult novelty store. Maybe Frank had gone into the dollar store after seeing some really cheap jewelry. He had seen a small display of jewels in the front window of one of those stores, but he couldn't remember which one. Slowly now, he went by each store and inspected the window for anything flashy.

There was actually nothing interesting displayed on the front windows of the drug stores, but Gerard forced himself to enter the cell phone store because the phones had been decorated with stick on jewels. But just as he expected, there was no Frank in sight. There was an elderly couple and a salesclerk in deep conversation, but besides that there was no Frank. In fact, there was no one in the room besides those three people, so Gerard backed out as quietly as he had entered.

The only store that was left on this block was the adult novelty store, but there was no reason why Frank would go in there. That only meant that either Gerard lost Frank earlier back or Frank had been snatched from him. Before he blew off the idea of the adult store completely, he took a quick glimpse at the window to see a shiny object with many little diamonds surrounding its loops. At the first glance, Gerard knew they were overly decorated handcuffs. But something clicked in his mind when he realized that from afar, someone could easily mistake the handcuffs for large hoop earrings, especially with the dim lighting they had.

Taking a breath, Gerard entered the novelty store and he was met with the image of Frank checking out the supplies before him, one being the pair of elaborate handcuffs.

* * *

A man entered the room and Frank assumed it was Jack, the store owner who had briefly left the room to find his earrings from the back. To amuse himself, Frank began to take a look at the accessories before him. At the moment, his attention was caught by the "Restricted" section, which held the handcuffs and chains. He had spent quite some time in the "Chained Down" area, but he moved down to the "Bed Arrest" when Jack became delayed. So, naturally after ten or so good minutes of waiting, Frank thought that the man who had entered was Jack. Chuckling, Frank tried the metal and clasped it over his wrist, using the other hand to pull on it violently. He noticed it was stronger than it appeared to look, and he was definitely convinced that it would hold stronger than the chains.

As he pulled on the handcuff, Frank asked aloud, "The chains and the handcuffs...which would you go for, Jack?"

"Frankie?" Gerard incredulously asked, and Frank snapped his head around to meet his highly amused and shocked boyfriend, and he struggled to get his hands out from the handcuffs. Of course, because he was caught off-guard, it took him longer than usual to take them off. When he did, he avoided eye-contact with Gerard, who couldn't stop giggling at the image that he just witnessed.

Just as Frank couldn't get any more embarrassed, Jack came out from the back door with the selection of earrings as well as other sex toys. "What'd you say?" Jack asked, his eyes still glued on the materials he retrieved from the back for Frank. Those, and the earrings Frank made him turn the back of the store upside-down for. Those earrings had been on display in the store for over a year now, and this guy was solely interested in the jewels...at first.

Jack looked up to see that the customer now had the new handcuffs grasped in one of his hands and he gave a grin at the young boy. "You called for something?" he asked, nodding to the accessory. Frank blushed and feverishly shook his head.

"Um...the earrings," Frank said, coming by and dropping the handcuffs on the floor.

"The earrings?" Jack asked again, catching the boy sneak a nervous glance at the second customer.

"Just the earrings," Frank repeated sternly, and Jack caught on.

"Okay," Jack agreed, sighing as a smile hovered above his lips. "Here are your earrings, man. Nothing else." Frank nodded gratefully at him and gulped before peering into the man's hands and observing the jewelry, anything to bring his heart rate down. He was sure that if he looked at Gerard now, he'd break into a sweat again. He just hoped that Gerard hadn't seen all of those. He would think he was a freak or something.

Quietly, Gerard picked the handcuffs up and silently signaled to Jack that he was interested. Jack looked from Frank to Gerard and caught the swift motion Gerard made. He gave Gerard a slight nod and a wink as he got rid of the other sex toys Frank seemed to be interested in. Frank's blush slightly lifted as he eyed the jewels and he tugged at Gerard's sleeve.

"Pick one," he shyly demanded, and Gerard stood from afar, carefully shrugging so that the material in his hands wouldn't clink.

"Pick whichever one you want," Gerard subtly urged him. "They're your ears."

"Yeah, but I'm doing it for you," Frank replied in the same manner. "So pick already."

"Um...how do the, uh...maybe those black ones?" Gerard asked, suggesting from afar. "You know...the two black circle ones?" Frank nodded, convinced by Gerard's decision as he grabbed them from Jack's hand.

"Um, why don't you try them on over there by the mirror, man?" Jack urged Frank, and Frank unsuspectingly went ahead to the back of the store to try it out. Now that Frank was out of the way, Jack quickly attended to Gerard and those handcuffs. He understood the picture completely: these two must've been a couple, and he was guessing they wanted to surprise each other, only this second guy was able to go through with it.

Just as Gerard received his purchase and stuffed it in the pocket of his jacket, Frank turned around happily, but modestly exclaimed, "It's cool."

"That's good," Gerard said, taking a peek himself. Then, to Jack he asked whispered, "How much are those?"

"Don't even think about paying, Gee," Frank shouted from the back, interrupting him. Jack chuckled as the two of them argued back and forth on the situation.

"Why shouldn't I?" Gerard demanded. "I get to pick the earrings, I get to pay."

"They're my ears," Frank yelled back. "I pay!"

"That excuse didn't work a second ago, and they don't work now," Gerard sang, handing Jack two twenty-dollar bills. "Is that enough?" he asked quietly to Jack. Frank overheard and shot Jack a threatening look.

"Touch it and you die," Frank warned the store owner, and Jack chuckled, raising his hands in the air. These two were an amusing gay couple. Gerard chuckled as well, shaking his head as he handed in the money to Jack anyway. Jack allowed him to reach into the cash register and deposit the money.

"Fine," Frank said as his boyfriend left the store. "You pay for this, but then I pay for everything else, okay?" He didn't even wait for a response because he knew Gerard had won and was standing outside the store, waiting for him to leave. But he was still in the mirror admiring the black jewel. Eventually, he exited, proudly displaying the earrings to Gerard as he gave him an all-tooth grin.

"Pretty," Gerard honestly voiced, observing them. He stepped back to admire his baby's newly decorated face and his breath got caught in his throat.

"What?" Frank nervously asked, immediately touching his ears. His childish grin disappeared, replaced with concern. "Is something messed up?"

"No," Gerard said, chuckling. "It's just...you look so different—"

"Different how?" Frank demanded. "Good, or bad? Cuz if it's bad I'll go back and change it and we could let the stuff heal and never deal with it again and I'm sorry—"

"Good, I guess," Gerard said, interrupting Frank's ramble. "You look tougher than you did before...I guess."

"Really?" Frank asked, raising his brow (favorite action of the day, Gerard noted). "I think it's just because today's a good day, and everything is going right...and your eyesight may be slightly off because of the heated subway...the poisons of the city air might be affecting your vision and brain function. Tell me: how many fingers am I holding up?" Frank asked, jokingly putting up three fingers. Gerard gave him a light shove and they continued to quietly walk around the busy block.

"I meant what I said just now," Gerard continued a few blacks later, refusing to drop the subject. "You look really...nice."

'Nice' was definitely not the word to describe Frank, but it was the only medium. He was leaning toward the more radical side of calling Frank sexy and erotic, but they were in public. He figured it wasn't the right thing to do in front of so many people. And he wasn't sure how Frank responded when surrounded by many people, because he had not seen Frank mingle with many people before. He had always been isolated and quiet. He didn't want to do anything and get him embarrassed.

But Frank shyly looked up at Gerard and smiled before he quickly got on his tip-toes and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek.

Somehow, Gerard was sure Frank had gotten his message.


	35. Fast Food, Fast Attitude

**Fast Food, Fast Attitude**

"You have such pretty ears," Gerard commented later on as he delicately inspected Frank's ears. Frank grinned shyly like a little four-year-old boy who had just read at fourth grade level to a group of people. It was obvious that Gerard was still having trouble believing that those holes were there, and the day was over already.

The two of them spent the day wandering around the city aimlessly, visiting a few more shops here and there before Frank pulled them inside a diner. The subtle pull seemed like a yank to Gerard, because he was bent on continuing his pointless travels. He was so cooped up in the moment that he hadn't thought about food at all, satisfying his hunger with a piece of gum.

"Wha?" Gerard responded to the sudden maneuvered move. His eyes wandered around in hopes of capturing the significantly obvious item that he seemed to overlook. Had he been out of it, about to walk into incoming traffic? Walking into people? Was there something on the floor? They were in New York, after all.

He realized his guesses, no matter how likely, were off as Frank gripped his shoulders and playfully spoke to him in a zombie-like manner. "You need food," Frank droned, lightly shaking him.

Food? _Food_, that was right. They hadn't eaten...all day, as a matter of fact. Gerard was so in the moment of walking out in the open, free with his boyfriend without having to worry about anything to cause him to hide, that the food slipped his mind. He _did _have that stale gum in his mouth...that had kept him occupied. But now that Frank mentioned it, his stomach began to rumble.

"Are you hungry, Frankie?" he asked his boyfriend. Frank gave a mere shrug. He had gone a couple of days without eating before. He wouldn't mind doing it again, especially if it meant more time walking around with Gerard. But that was only if Gerard wasn't hungry, and by the looks of it, his boyfriend's stomach was pretty angry.

Gerard gave a shrug as his stomach gave another growl. "Nope," he lied, emptying the gum in his mouth to put in another stick. Frank held his hand mid-way, taking the gum from him and placing it in his pocket.

"You gotta eat, babe," Frank subtly urged Gerard. "I'm not the only one who thinks so," he continued, rubbing Gerard's belly.

"I'll eat when we go home," he said, shrugging the idea away. Frank gave him an unbelieving look before he sighed, entering the diner himself. As Frank knew and suspected, Gerard would have no choice _but _to follow him, and Gerard did run into the diner after him. The smell of hot juicy hamburgers made Gerard's mouth water, and Frank gave him a smug look as he held up twenty dollars.

"Still want to wait until we get home?" Frank taunted, and Gerard pouted.

"But I wanted us to walk around together..."

"We can. We _are_," Frank corrected himself as he neared the cashier. "And we'll continue after we're not hungry anymore, kay? Now, what do you want?" Gerard stared at Frank and guiltily made a selection of the double-stacked burger, waiting behind quietly as Frank made the order.

"Um...can we have the double-burger?" Frank politely asked.

"Small, medium, or large?" the New Yorker behind the counter grumpily asked, after pressing a few buttons.

"Can we have a...medium or large?" Frank suddenly turned to ask Gerard, during the second half of his sentence. Gerard gave a timid shrug as Frank turned back to the bored cashier. "Large," he decided. Whatever fries Gerard didn't eat, he would. Same went for the drink, since those were the only things that they actually changed the sizes of.

"Soda?" the man behind the counter asked.

"That'd be nice," Frank agreed, smiling politely at the man. He expectantly waited for the cashier to pick up a cup and fill it with soda when the guy snorted at Frank's expense, realizing that he had no idea what he meant.

"We want a coke," Gerard snapped at the individual. Frank immediately blushed pink once he realized what the fellow was trying to ask him.

"Genius," the guy muttered, shaking his head. Frank averted his gaze, keeping it low and on the price chart in front of him. That was all he should have focused on. He should have let Gerard make the order and he'd just pay. He'd look less stupid that way...

"That it?" the guy asked, filling up the soda cup.

"No," Gerard replied protectively, stepping up to the counter with his arm over Frank's neck. "He needs to eat too, doesn't he?" Then, in a much gentler tone, he asked Frank what he would like. Frank diffidently raised his eyes towards the menu and mumbled a quiet, 'Nothing. I'm full.'

"He wants number eleven," Gerard said, rubbing Frank's shoulder. "The chicken salad...except no chicken. Understand? We want a large, and another coke to go with it. Any questions?" Gerard questioned, threateningly . The guy shook his head, amused at how the long-haired guy became completely protective over the smaller one, who was obviously his boyfriend of some sort.

"Nope," the guy said, raising his arms in the air. As he went to the back to retrieve their meals, Frank placed the dollar bill on the counter and shied away.

"Are you okay?" Gerard asked him, rubbing his shoulder once more. Frank nodded, the blushed-color fading from his face when he looked up at Gerard.

"You didn't have to be all mean to the poor guy," Frank shyly said, although he was secretly happy Gerard managed to scare him a bit.

"I couldn't help it," Gerard said, smiling. "He was picking at you. Besides, look at the sticker at the cash register. It says, _'If we don't give you at least one smile to go along with our meals made from love and care, then the meal's on us.'_" Gerard snickered a little at the end and Frank grinned.

"So does that mean we're getting a free meal?" Frank asked, and Gerard nodded, bringing a finger to Frank's lips.

"We still have until we pay him off for the deal to work," Gerard excitedly murmured. "Let's see..."

Opportunity seemed to present itself right after that moment, because the next second the man who had taken their order yelled, "Do you have a number eleven...? Good, good...yea, just pick out the meat...yeah, okay."

A minute or so later, the man came back with their meals in his hand and on their tray. He tiredly shoved them towards Gerard before he sent his attention to Frank. Yawning, he demanded, "$12.78."

Frank coolly handed him the twenty dollars and Gerard took the food away to an abandoned table outside, which wasn't hard. The restaurant was bare, and Gerard couldn't blame them. He decided he would sit outside on the bench as he waited for Frank to return with the tray. He could see Frank politely addressing the issue to the man, and he patiently waited outside.

"But it says so right here," Frank's timid voice traveled, reaching the man's ears. The guy gave a mocking chuckle at the juxtaposed character that resided in the man that stood in front of him. The guy seemed tough as hell, but he knew nothing. He wasn't intimidating at all when he spoke either.

"So?" the guy coolly asked, crossing his arms. "That's been there for years."

"So you should know that rule by heart," Frank retaliated calmly. "It says that if you don't smile, my stupid meal is _free_."

"Is someone getting _angwy_?" the man asked, mocking Frank once more. Frank crossed his arms, annoyed at the man. He didn't seem that much older than him. How'd that make him any sort of baby? In what way?

"That crap I paid for is free. You know it as well as I do...In fact, you should know it by heart, because you've had this sorry job for 'years'." Frank knew that was a low-blow to refer to his job. He didn't want to have said that, and he immediately felt bad. It wasn't like Gerard had the best job in the world either. If he hadn't known Gerard, would he have snapped at him that way also? "Said so yourself," he added, trying to defend himself.

"I'm not giving you anything," the man replied, looking Frank over. "So you can go over to your...boyfriend over there." As if a new topic clicked in his head, he started to verbally attack Frank, with nothing else to retaliate with other than his sexuality. "Fag-bag," he continued. "You're lucky I even served you two. You know what? Your $12.78 was the fee."

"For _what_?" Frank dared to ask, his anger rising.

"What?" the New Yorker taunted him, knowing he hit a cord. "You dare me to say it, pansy?" Frank tried to keep his cool, his arms still crossed. But it wasn't long before his fists were clenched. "Is the queer losing it?"

"What the hell did you mean by 'fee'?" Frank demanded, glaring at him. Frank's whole look went from innocent kid into that of someone you'd definitely steer clear of in broad _daylight_. Despite the fact that the cashier had called Frank's bluff before, he was still a bit frightened by the whole image. Plus, this time Frank had the strong emotion of anger welled within him from that guy's prior comments. There would _be _no bluffing this time.

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory," the guy muttered, backing away. Frank saw the fear reflecting in the guy's eyes and he stepped forward. The man immediately stepped backwards, his back against the refreshment machine, even though there was a pretty huge counter between the two of them. Frank was proud of what his new look, as well as his new attitude, could get him.

The cashier took a glance towards the back as Frank calmly held out his hand, his other hand on the opposite side of the counter to hold himself up. With his hand down, Frank waited for the man behind the counter to hand him the $12.78. Instead, his head shot up when he heard the man speak to him.

"I'm...sorry for what I said," the man immediately apologized, attempting to hold and shake Frank's hand to call for a truce. He had noticed he was in no position to argue over this money. It was about $13.00. He should just give the kid his money and move on. It was New York, after all. You never see anyone twice. And he didn't need his manager coming out now.

Frank pulled his hand away and stared at him incredulously. Then, he began to chuckle.

It was obvious Frank and the man were not seeing things on the same level.

The chuckle rang throughout the empty restaurant, reaching Gerard's ears. The laugh soon turned into an uncontrollable cackle, and the manner in which Frank was laughing actually scared Gerard a bit. Frank's laugh sounded fictitious and cold. It matched his ruthless expression, though.

If Frank was making a point, it was working.

Gerard peered in through the glass window and knocked, catching both of their attention. As his eyes surveyed the scene laid out in front of him, he guessed what it was that could have possibly gone wrong. He had only been outside for a short period of time. What could have happened between then and now? Frank seemed to be really angry...whatever it was, he decided Frank had been over there for too long, and the cashier had everything to do with it.

"I think he wants his $12.78 back," he budded in, speaking through the front glass window. He then continued to idly sit outside, waiting for his boyfriend to come and join him, and the guy reached for the cash register immediately. Frank's laughter quieted down at once when he felt the $12.78 in his hands once more.

But before he left, his eyes locked with the cashier. Frank could sense the cashier had been staring at him oddly. He was sure people probably never paid much attention to that sign, or made any commotion over something that was almost only $13.00 But as he recalled the homosexual comments the rude New Yorker had thrown at him, he didn't feel any remorse. He was tired of people like him interfering with his love-life. It wasn't his fault he was obviously gutsier in bed (according to society) and everyone else was so closed-minded.

"Genius," he muttered, loud enough for the man to hear, before he shut the door to eat with his boyfriend.

* * *

Today was such a perfect day. It had just been him and Frank the whole time, window shopping and wandering the streets of New York. If they hadn't stopped for a bite (but thank Frank that they did) they would have had more time out together. But right after they ate their food (dinner, to be exact...they had eaten around 6:45 P.M.), Gerard had realized just how tired he was. Luckily, he wasn't the only one. Frank had been pretty tired, too.

"So...we're going on the subway again?" Frank asked, yawning. Gerard nodded, holding Frank while he yawned off.

"Same train," he explained, rising after Frank arose to put their food into the garbage. When he returned, he held Gerard briefly by the waist.

"Oh, okay," Frank said as he stood in front of Gerard, slowly letting his grip falter. "So...that way?" he asked, pointing down the street. Gerard nodded once more as he held Frank protectively around the waist this time, not letting go. Frank giggled.

"You do know that we're in public, right?" Frank asked eventually.

"I know," Gerard admitted as they strolled down the less hectic evening streets.

"And you know that there's probably a higher chance of us getting jumped now than there was in the morning and afternoon? Which was why I let go before...?"

"Uh-hm," Gerard replied in the same manner. "I'm just too tired to give a damn now," he added, smiling at Frank. Frank gave a smile back and Gerard continued. "I mean, I think you could take anyone of these fuckers down," he said, motioning to the closest group of people by them.

"What makes you so sure?" Frank asked coyly, raising a brow. Gerard now motioned back at the restaurant.

"I don't know what happened, but you scared that guy shit-less back there..."

"Oh," Frank quietly agreed. "That. Yeah..."

Gerard could feel his boyfriend stiffen up against him at the subject, so he slowed down their walk and faced Frank. "What happened in there, baby?" he cautiously asked. "You seem...I don't know...troubled...Did he touch you?"

"No," Frank assured him. "The whole thing was just...I never...Didn't you see it? See me?"

"No, actually," Gerard admitted. "I saw bits and pieces, but I was pretty confused myself when I took that last glance and saw you extremely mad back there...Did he make fun of you or something? Was he not giving you the money cuz of...I dunno...your height?"

"No, it's okay," Frank decided, dismissing the whole ordeal. "He was just...pissing me off a little."

"You should have called me so I could kick his ass," Gerard complained, ruffling Frank's hair.

"But I didn't because I didn't want you to," Frank said, squirming from Gerard's grip. "I have to learn how to kick ass on my own, Gee."

"But you're my little baby," Gerard whined.

"There's gonna be a time when I'm all alone and have to fend off for myself," Frank genuinely voiced, gripping Gerard's arm. "As much as I would like to, I can't pester you all the time. Besides, the look you gave me works enough."

Gerard responded to the comment with a silent smile, a million thoughts swarming in his head. All that was true, but he was a bit nervous about the whole thing and how Frank seemed to change. People _did _have the natural right to reach their snapping points, but he had never seen Frank's side. Had he always been capable of doing that? Gerard himself did things like this all the time, but this was _his _Frankie they were talking about, the one who was always too shy and polite to do anything to anybody. Were his bad habits rubbing off on Frank?

"_And _I need practice," Frank eagerly chirped, interrupting his thoughts. Gerard questioningly cocked an eyebrow.

"For what?"

"For when people try to pry you away from me," Frank responded, giving one of his famous grins. "I was hoping that by the time they figured us out, they'd be too nervous to try anything too rash on us. Cuz I won't be the same quiet and timid Frank when it comes to ruining my life. At least, not now..."

"Aww," Gerard cooed, hugging Frank tightly. They received a few disapproving glares, but no one did anything as the two of them entered the subway together, hand in hand, and arm in arm. Gerard knew he had started out the morning avoiding contact, but in all honesty, he had been too cautious about the issue. They could touch...and if it bothered anyone, he could always say that they were brothers or some shit like that. They were only hugging, after all.

"I won't go down easily, though," Gerard murmured to the content Frank. "So if that's the reason, know that you can always call on me. Because I'd help you out anytime, _especially _if it involves your life, babe."

* * *

This time in the subway, the two didn't have to wait as long before the C train pulled up to send them back to that desolate area in New Jersey. It only took about twenty minutes before it pulled up and they entered. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that it was almost 8:00 p.m., but there were barely any people on the trains.

With more freedom to look around, Frank's eyes laid on the bare and abandoned poles that stretched along the train's walkway. He'd never noticed them there before. He'd been too preoccupied with the 'eye-battle' with James. Besides, the train had been stuffed, leaving both he and Gerard in two seats that had them awkwardly facing no one and nothing, besides the people in front of them (who happened to be James and his girl). He was taught not to stare around when he was little. It was rude to do, and they were in the notoriously feared New York, where they ate people like him for breakfast.

Frank smiled to himself as the last thought came through his mind. He had been extremely excited, yet nervous about visiting the city. He had even forgotten why he'd come here in the first place. But as his fingers traveled up to his earlobes once more, it came flooding back. The adult novelty store, the handcuffs, the black earrings...

He was kind of disappointed about the handcuffs, but maybe he and Gerard would come back again sometime. He started wondering about how awkward he would feel discussing the use of handcuffs. The conversation made him chuckle out loud.

"Hey, Gerard. I know we haven't had sex yet, but I was thinking of buying handcuffs from that store, y'know...? What for? Well, uh...I just thought...they would be pretty on you..."

That would never work.

"What's so funny?" Gerard demanded as he sat across from Frank in the nearly abandoned car of the train. There was an old lady on board, but she seemed to be sleeping. And the other person inside seemed to be a young man...he was chatting away on his phone about something.

"Hm?" Frank asked, realizing his outburst. "Oh, nothing."

"Is it about me?" Gerard immediately accused, crossing his arms. Frank grinned to himself before he answered him.

"Maybe," he admitted, smiling some more. "But it's more about...today, I guess."

"Did you like it?" Gerard asked giddily. Frank nodded.

"I was just thinking of coming back again," he let on. "Maybe more jewelry or something..."

"More, eh?" Gerard chuckled, remembering the pair of handcuffs in his pockets. He grinned to himself when he thought about what Frank's reaction would be.

"Yeah," Frank casually agreed, bringing his knees up on the seat. "Why? What's so funny, huh?"

"Nothing," Gerard muttered to himself. "Just...that was an interesting store there, wasn't it?"

"Mm-hm," Frank quietly agreed. "But...just out of curiosity..."

"Shoot."

"What if..."

"What if what?"

"Could you ever see me...in those things?" Frank asked, before he quickly added, "Hypothetically speaking."

"Right," Gerard grinned as a blush formed on Frank's face.

"I mean...if _I_ came home with that stuff..."

"It'd be...it'd definitely be different," Gerard admitted to him. "Just like you standing off on your own today. You're growing too fast for me, Frankie," he joked. "One second you're an incredibly young innocent boy whom I love, and then in the next, you're some hard-core bad-ass sexy motherfucker...whom I still love," he added. "But it's hard...I mean, part of me still sees you as a kid, Frankie. And to see you change in areas you don't really need to..."

"I'm not a kid though, Gee," Frank insisted. If anything, he'd be an adult in four days (if he included today). "And I'm not innocent either."

"But to me you are," Gerard argued. "And I bet you've gone through many things. But I can't think of you that way. You're my little Frankie, the little boy who needs me and the little boy that my twisted mind wants."

"So will you never be comfortable with us ever going further?" Frank asked. "I mean...we can never have sex together if—"

The man on the phone stopped his chatter and stared at the two of them incredulously, making Frank blush yet again. Gerard made an 'is-it-any-of-your-business' expression at him, which made the guy walk down to the opposite side of the car. Thankfully, the woman was still asleep.

The man was still giving Frank the oddest expressions as he stood from afar. "Well...I've got to say you're pretty...enticing," Gerard admitted. "But once I get my head out of the clouds, I feel like a perv sometimes. I mean, when I'm just sitting down alone, thinking about it all...the things I make you do are just...I'm a sick and twisted man, Frankie. Simply put." Gerard decided to end it there

"I'm used to sick and twisted," Frank replied, cockily raising a brow in a seducing manner. "Try me."

"I'll pass," Gerard said, "as tempting as that offer is."

"I want us to have sex before you have to go," Frank said quietly. "I really, really, really, really, really like you a lot, and I'd be pissed as hell if this all ended too soon."

"I still have a bit of self-control, so until then, nothing happens," Gerard said, giving Frank his final word, although he didn't sound as strong as he would have liked to, and Frank could detect the weakness in his voice.

"Gerard?" he slyly asked.

"Hm?"

"I know this is all talk," he continued. "But, if you thought of me purely as some innocent quiet little boy, you wouldn't let me kiss you, or kiss me back. We wouldn't be touching each other. And unless you're thinking about someone else in your dreams, you wouldn't wake up to a boner every morning, either."

A smug look was on Frank's face as Gerard became embarrassed, and the guy on his cell phone covered the receiver angrily, with a weirded out look.

"Could you guys kinda keep it down?" he asked, before returning back to his call. Frank tried to stifle in his giggle, but he failed miserably.

It would soon be time to get Gerard to contradict himself.


	36. One Way Only

**One Way Only**

"Like I was saying, Gee, you can save the act." The subway train gave a gigantic whine as it rocked to the side. Frank couldn't help but smile at his timid boyfriend.

"What act?" Gerard nervously asked, rubbing his hands together. "There's no act," he continued. "None at all. I mean it."

He had been keeping this up for the whole night. It was about 10:00 at night right now. For the past couple of hours, Frank sat quietly, waiting for the train to empty out, and here they were. He hadn't realized the train ride had been that long before. Maybe it had to do with the fact he wasn't arguing with Gerard, scheming of ways to get his hands all over him. It had been a gamble to think he could reach him alone, because he couldn't have known that they would be locked in a car alone together. Luckily, it had happened.

"So, what you're telling me is that if I flung myself at you, you wouldn't grab?" Frank continued as he rose and steadily made his way to sit right next to Gerard, as if there hadn't just been a two and a half hour long interruption. Gerard gave a shrug and avoided Frank's gaze with a blush forming his cheeks again. Frank was getting to him, but he had made a small promise to himself that if he became Frank's boyfriend, he'd kiss him and nothing else. Not at least until this was all over.

"Maybe," he mumbled to the darkened window on his right. "But in my defense, I would _only _be kissing you. Nothing else."

"What if I told you that you could do more?" Frank asked, inching himself towards Gerard, their thighs now touching. Gerard couldn't help but grin to the window when he felt Frank's hands by his crotch area. The last passenger left less than five minutes ago, which meant that this had been on Frank's mind the whole trip. But Gerard wasn't so sure as to why Frank was being so pushy now. He had been a lot like that earlier on, but then it just kind of faded away. Now, it was back. Could it be from the restaurant, all the adrenaline?

"You've done that the whole time we've been here, Frankie," Gerard pointed out, still avoiding Frank's alluring gaze. "And I have yet to fall for it." Frank gave a grumble when he realized Gerard was right. But he didn't want to wait anymore. Where were they going? Nowhere. Why not enjoy each other's company the most they could?

"You will one day," Frank vowed, sitting back in his seat. "You'll have to."

"No, I won't," Gerard insisted. "If the police and shit do their job right, we'll be going home in a few days. And I'd like to keep the memories as innocent as possible."

"Kissing me the way you do's not innocent at all," Frank complained. "Why can't we just—"

"No," Gerard firmly said, the smile disappearing. "Not here, not now. It's not right."

"Who cares?"

"I care," Gerard retaliated, his voice softening. "I have to. If I don't, who will?"

"Maybe there's a reason why nobody cares, Gee," Frank said, trying to convince Gerard still. Today had been so perfect, and he wanted to end it on a note as such. "It's my body, and I'm telling you I don't care."

"You don't care if I do what?" Gerard demanded to know as Frank's hand retreated to his knee.

"Sleep with me," Frank whispered, gently squeezing Gerard's knee. Their eyes locked for a moment when Gerard blinked his gaze away.

"I can't."

"Is it me then?" Frank asked. "Do I have to spice myself up or something?"

"No, no _way_," Gerard exclaimed, trying to explain himself.

"So if it's not you, it has to be me," Frank continued. "I'm so confused Gerard. Are you so into that dogma that you don't find me...interesting at all? I...I thought I kinda was getting to you...or am I seeing things? Overanalyzing?" Frank's hand pulled further away and by his sides. "We are boyfriends, right? Or are you pitying me or something?" he finally asked, a flash of anger reflected in his eyes. But the anger soon subsided. "Because you didn't want to turn me away..." he realized aloud. He'd already confessed to Gerard about how he was treated in school getting beat up day after day. Maybe Gerard was concerned that if he rejected him, he'd crumble. Gerard was too nice for his own good.

"It's not you, Frankie," Gerard assured him, finally looking at Frank before Frank sunk into the pit of thoughts in his mind. "And get that fucking notion out of your head. I wouldn't tell you 'yes' for pity. I'd make up some stupid crap like, 'I'm flattered, really, but I have a girlfriend'."

"Girlfriend?" Frank asked, raising a brow.

"Yeah, girlfriend," Gerard repeated. "Well, I'm gay, so that wouldn't work...it'd be 'boyfriend'. But you get my point, Frankie."

"So what's wrong?" Frank pouted.

Gerard wracked his head for an explanation that wouldn't reveal how hypocritical he felt, but there was none. "I want you...a _lot_," he admitted. "But, I can't, cuz you're a kid. And I don't need them capturing us and we're in the middle of something. Y'know? That'd be horrible. I want to have you and not have you taken away from me so soon after…"

Now that Gerard brought up his concern for the consequences, Frank couldn't blame him anymore. "I get it," Frank said finally. Gerard immediately wished he hadn't said that, because he could hear the sadness in Frank's voice. And at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss away Frank's misery.

"I'm sorry—''

"It's okay," Frank assured him, a smile on his lips. It totally contradicted how he had sounded a moment ago but this was Frank, Gerard had to remind himself. He knew how to hide emotions when he needed to. "I appreciate you telling me, and when you bring it up that way, I don't want to do anything to make you unhappy," Frank said, as he inched closer to Gerard and planted a kiss on his cheek. That part wasn't faked for Gerard's sake, he knew. He could tell that Frank had honestly meant that in the most innocent of ways. But as Frank leant forward to kiss Gerard's cheek, Gerard turned to the side so that their lips met. Intent on keeping Gerard's wishes, Frank only gave his lips a peck. Gerard lifted a hand and put it to Frank's cheek, caressing him as he inched in for another kiss...

"Gee, babe," Frank murmured. "What're you doing?"

"I said we could kiss, right?" Gerard huskily asked, his questioning eyes peering into Frank's own. He then put another one of his hands on Frank's waist as Frank bit his lip.

"But you know where I'll unfortunately lead it to," Frank asked him. "I mean, not purposely, but I don't know if...how I feel right now if I can...or can't..."

"That'll be up to me to handle," Gerard said, pecking Frank's cheek. "Right now, I want to feel and taste my boyfriend."

Before Frank could pull away and let Gerard regain his thoughts and reason, they were mouth to mouth. Their lips pressed against one another until Gerard's tongue licked Frank's bottom lip and Frank eventually opened his mouth to welcome him.

Frank let a sigh escape his lips as he tried to shift his position to sit on top of Gerard. Gerard's hands traveled up his body and helped hoist Frank over him. Frank swiftly completed his task, his legs entrapping Gerard at his waist and his hands on Gerard's neck and in his hair. The kissing was intense, fueled by Gerard's forbidden desire. He had wanted Frank, and he secretly wished that he could do whatever the hell he wanted with him...which was why he had bought the handcuffs in the first place. But those had been by impulse. Now that he thought about it though, it probably hadn't been a good idea to buy them. Like he had said aloud, he didn't plan on sleeping with Frank...yet he had bought the kinky handcuffs? Things just didn't add up, and he knew he was loosing the battle with himself.

As if the train was mocking Gerard's self-doubt, it began to rock against the rails, causing both he and Frank to rub against each other in return. With how close the two were, the friction was just bound to occur and he could feel Frank's hard-on, which helped his own grow faster. He gave a low groan as he felt Frank grip on to his neck and shoulder, and Frank grunted as he expertly grounded his hips down against Gerard's.

The train gave another violent wobble and Gerard's hand went down to Frank's waist to secure Frank on top of him so he wouldn't fall. His hand traveled down to Frank's ass and Frank gave a moan as he kissed Gerard deeply. Frank's hands moved as well, reaching towards Gerard's lower back as his nails dug into his skin. Frank had originally done that to hopefully get Gerard to cool it down a bit. There was a big spark between the two of them, and he couldn't help but feel guilty that he was egging Gerard on.

But Gerard gave a seductive groan at the nail digging instead and Frank brought his other hand up (now extremely turned on) underneath Gerard's shirt so he could touch his bare chest. His other hand was still groping Gerard's ass when the same hand from earlier moved down to Gerard's lower stomach. It was when Frank's fingers groped around for Gerard's penis that Gerard decided they should cool it down a bit. Frank had been right about his warning.

"Frankie," Gerard subtly warned, giving him one last parting kiss. "We can't."

"But who else is gonna get rid of it for you?" Frank asked, rubbing himself against his boyfriend once more. He had wanted Gerard to slow it down a second ago, but not now. Not after that sexy groan of his. Determined to continue, Frank leaned his head to the side as he re-approached Gerard's skin.

Gerard gave a shudder as he unwillingly gave into Frank's wishes, the feeling of Frank's soft lips and the lip ring firmly pressing into his neck. He hoped to God that there were no more stops in between now and theirs.

Gerard gave a small whine and Frank let his hands retreat from his lower stomach and ass as he began to plant kisses down to Gerard's genitals. Gerard gave a gasp when he felt Frank's fingers tightly hold on to his waist and he felt Frank slide down to the floor to better accommodate for what he was about to perform. He held in another gasp as he saw Frank unzip his jeans and his own, the hair brushing by Gerard's underwear. Below him, Gerard could see Frank's boner protruding through his undies. Frank released one hand from Gerard's waist and he used it to encircle his own penis that was screaming for attention. He gave it a couple of pumps before he started to kiss Gerard's inner thigh.

Gerard couldn't believe that Frank was about to suck him off here in the train...

Did they have videos on here? What if someone came? What if someone saw? What if Frank did it? Then it'd be statutory rape. He couldn't let that happen. What happened to his promise of only kissing? He had let himself be clouded by Frank's sweet kisses and throaty moans.

Frank was at the area, ready to take off Gerard's underwear when Gerard begrudgingly lifted Frank's head. "We...I can't let you, Frankie," Gerard rasped truthfully, looking sadly into Frank's crazed eyes.

Surprisingly enough, Frank didn't argue. Instead, he arose and ended up holding to one of the poles to steady himself so he didn't fall on top of Gerard. Cuz if he did that now, Gerard's fate would be sealed.

The only reason why Frank hadn't pressed the issue was because he understood the situation Gerard was in, and he didn't want to sink him in any further trouble...not while he had some control. And with himself away and off Gerard, he had some control. Although, the sane part of him wished Gerard had taken the nail digging hint so that they wouldn't be this far. He was this close to giving him a blow job!

The other part of Frank, currently fueled by a sex drive, was ecstatic, and glad Gerard had let this go on. Because of that, he was able to kiss Gerard's inner thighs. And the next part would have been the man's penis. Did you see the size of that thing? And to know he had played a very big role in its birth was something to be proud of.

As he stood up against the pole, some blood resumed to rush to his head, Gerard's prior concerns refreshing his memory as he fought for control. If he sucked Gerard off right now, there would be hell to pay if someone found out. And they probably would, with their trickery and lie detectors.

But…nothing would happen if he made Gerard jack himself off, right? Frank gave a smirk as he thought of the possibility. Gerard would do it, right? They could just happen to jack off in the same room, y'know. Total coincidence.

"What about..." Frank finally asked, his voice coarse as nodded towards the tent that had formed. Gerard gave a small shrug.

"I could just wait it out..."

"_Or _you could take care of it right now," Frank opted, bringing his hands down his own pants and cupping his own hard-on. He began to play with it as Gerard's eyes stayed glued to the scene in front of him. Frank wasn't even sure if Gerard realized what he was doing, but the older man was indeed pumping himself, which kind of surprised Frank. There hadn't been any objections to his suggestion this time.

To keep him occupied, Frank began to use the pole to his advantage as he wrapped a leg around it. He gave a gasp as the cool metal touched his inner thigh and Gerard whimpered once more, licking his lips after. Frank was offering an interesting possibility. This was alright, right? Gerard wondered It had to be. They weren't touching, so it was okay. They just happened to be two people who had boners they needed to get rid off, and they just chose to do it publicly.

Or would this be considered child pornography?

Frank gave a whine as he slid down the cool metal, one hand on his manhood while the other gripped the support of the pole. He let his head fall back as he sensually brought himself up and back down again. This time he widened his legs and remained floored when he returned to the ground, concentrating on pumping himself as he let moans and whimpers escape his throat. In front of him sat Gerard, his legs spread apart as well while he madly pumped himself at the erotic image.

"Fuck it, Frankie," Gerard angrily grunted in a high-pitched voice.

Frank knew Gerard was about to come, and he held on a little bit longer so he could witness seeing Gerard's face. But he couldn't seem to wait long enough, letting himself drop twice down the pole before he exploded with a full out slew of, "Of my fucking god, oh, oh...oh yesss Gerard" as he held on to the pole.

Turned out, the sight of Frank making those two quick drops down made Gerard come as well. He saw stars as he captured the sight of Frank's head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, and mouth moaning incoherent babble about 'Gerard' something. The sound of Frank's strained voice calling his name caused him to moan aloud as well. Or should he say 'screamed'.

"Oh, fuck Frank! Aghhhhh... oh...Frankie...uh, god!" he let himself openly voice as Frank began to get off the high of his orgasm. Frank laid there with his legs open and hands at his sides as he gave Gerard a lazy smile, his eyes and brain recording the image of his boyfriend coming. Mouth hanging open, eyebrows knitted together, and eyes squeezed shut…

It wasn't until Gerard's breathing got back to normal (a minute or so later) that he was able to faintly smile back at Frank. Shyly, Frank crawled back over and offered Gerard some tissue he luckily had in his pocket to clean off. The two cleaned their hands off in silence as he train continued to rock from side to side. Frank's eyes met Gerard's, which showed a hint of doubt. He tried to give a reassuring smile, but he was tired and Gerard could see through it.

"You didn't get your jeans soiled...did you?" Frank quietly asked, trying to start conversation as he gave in to a yawn. Gerard shook his head.

"You?" he asked Frank. Frank shook his head before resting it against the base of the chair and letting his eyes roll back.

"Nu-uh," he sleepily mumbled to Gerard. Gerard couldn't help but smile at how his Frankie seemed to be now. As he languidly stared Frank over, he realized that the both of them still had their tissues in their hands. Being the more responsible one, Gerard took Frank's tissue from his hand and made his way to the garbage to dump in their tissues.

As Gerard came back to his seat, something changed his mind about the whole ordeal. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he realized just how empty this car was, the fact that their stop was in the next thirty minutes, or the sight of seeing Frank curled up in a ball on the floor when he should have been on the chair. But whatever it was, he was now a bit more willing to the idea of both he and Frank sleeping together.

When it came to him and Frank, all that mattered was them. There should be no outside parties involved. And time was wearing down. Why was he waiting when the both of them felt the same way? What if he and Frank got caught and things didn't flow as smoothly as he had hoped? He probably already had statutory rape on his charges. Why not do it anyway?

Gerard slipped down to the floor, pulling Frank close to him as the thoughts circulated his mind. He hadn't wanted to wake Frank up from his sleep, so he figured it made the most sense to sit right there on the floor next to him.

Frank fit snugly, letting the sleep fully posses him while he lay in Gerard's arms, letting go of all consciousness. Gerard had come down here with him, down on the floor where who-knows-what was lurking in the dirty cracks. And with the protective grip Gerard had on him, Frank knew Gerard wasn't mad at him, despite the questioning look he had seen in his eyes earlier. Frank gave an appreciative mumble that was totally incoherent, and he was positive Gerard hadn't understood a word, but he felt better saying it regardless.

Gerard smiled as he kissed the top of Frank's head, brushing Frank's hair away from the side of his face to murmur an 'I love you' into his sweet ears. But all Gerard could hear in response were Frank's light snores against his chest.

* * *

Mikey gave a grumble when he met Gerard's voicemail, _again_. It was obvious that the two of them hadn't traveled yet. Whenever Gerard went somewhere, he was sure to follow with his cell phone. As a sign of defeat, Mikey angrily placed his cell on the nightstand, pacing around.

The visit was really bugging Mikey. For starters, they were coming back down _here_, and the guy Gerard was running away from (in a sense) would be near. He had been dropping by more frequently. And just today, he saw the same guy standing outside the apartment complex.

Secondly, he wouldn't be able to hide the two of them from that guy. They'd have to stay the night, though. What's to say that Frank wouldn't miss home, or that that guy wouldn't see Frank and grab him back? It would be great that Frank would go back home, but if he allowed that he would be practically handing his brother in to the feds and he wasn't comfortable with that at all.

What on earth could have delayed the two of them? Mikey wondered. Although, Gerard _did _just call today. Maybe he figured his little bro had a life, and he couldn't just bombard into it whenever he wanted to. Aw. How sweet! Luckily, when he heard the message as it was being recorded, he had gone off to work and requested a few days off to be on 'vacation'. His boss was pretty happy that Mikey decided to call it quits for a few days, because he was _always _there, no complaints.

With a faint smile, he headed over to the answering machine, sure that the answer was inside Gerard's message. The first time he had heard it, he only was able to pick up the fact that Gerard said something about coming over. He had been on his way to work, so he let the answering machine take care of Gerard. But now, he listened to the message Gerard had left on the machine once more.

"Um…either we're not here, or we're too lazy to pick up the phone. So…yeah." Beep.

"Hey Mikes, it's me. Listen, um..." The sound of a faint shower could be heard in the distance. "I was wondering if we could meet up, you know...? Like you offered to a while ago...I think the last time we spoke? I can't remember. Any way, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I haven't been calling you as often. Things are just...Frankie did something for me last night that was really special, so there's my excuse." Gerard had been smiling. He could hear it in his voice.

_Ewwww! Gross!_ Mikey immediately thought.

"Anyway, I—wait! I didn't mean it like that I swear!" Gerard laughed at what he'd inferred to his younger brother as he tried to explain himself on the tape. "He pierced his ears for me, is what I meant to say, and you know how scared I am of needles. And just the thought of him driving that thing through his ear was...anyway, yeah...we wanna come over. I was thinking maybe today, but maybe not, cuz I want to treat Frankie out—get your head out of the fucking gutter, Mikes—but maybe tomorrow...so...yeah. Call me, Mikey, okay? Okay...bye."

Beep. End of message.

Mikey gave a chuckle at the end of Gerard's message, heading over to the nightstand to pick up his phone once more. So the fact that Mikey had his own life still wasn't important to Gerard, he joked to himself. And he was treating Frankie out, eh? He was definitely going to bring this up...if Gerard ever picked up. He was going to start off his with his brother with a "I have a life, you know."

Of course, it would all be said in fun. He didn't mind Gerard stopping by. It had gotten kind of cold and lonesome in the one room apartment. Sure, there was more food, but he missed his brother…and his brother needed to answer his fucking phone.

Just as he gave his call a last go, he heard a faint knock at his door...

* * *

Pete gave a sigh as he dialed Gerard's number. It was now or never. If Gerard didn't answer his fifth call, he was going to have to go on with his plan. It didn't matter that Mikey had seen him earlier before. Since then, he had gone home and changed his clothes and gotten the things he needed to finish him off. He knew that with a different wardrobe, latex gloves and his gun (he had to thank Mario for that), Mikey would be an easy pick. Also, the security here was wack, and there were all sorts of shots echoing throughout the city. How would they ever pick out his own?

He let the phone ring twice before it brought him to Gerard's voicemail and instead of hanging up like he had originally planned, he decided he'd let Gerard _hear _the consequences of not picking up. Gerard always had his phone on him, so Pete knew it was being done to spite him. Well, not anymore, he decided, standing outside Mikey's door.

"Here, Gerard," Pete spoke into the receiver, "is the beginning of the end for your dear Mikey." He then held his phone in a separate hand as he placed on the latex gloves. He was prepared for this. The cool block of metal was tucked safely away on his waist, waiting for it's chance to shine. Inside it were four bullets. Hopefully, he only had to use one...

He fumbled inside his pockets for his shades. He needed them if he wanted to appear unreadable on the cameras. At that thought, Pete looked around, only to find that there were none. But paranoia got the best of him, and he put on his shades so that if people did him leaving Mikey's room, all they'd be able to tell police was that the man was a white Caucasian in his early twenties. Maybe his haircut would knock the count down to 100,000 people.

This would be easier than he thought. He could kill Mikey and have clean hands. He had an alibi as well, waiting for him at home, and her name was Tina. The Ieros would certainly help, now that he thought about it. He wasn't so sure about Mrs. Iero, but Mr. Iero definitely would.

He gave a shaky breath as he knocked on the door. This was it. Inside, he heard a faint beep and a chuckle. He could hear shuffling on the other side as well and he shook his head at the lengths Frank's running away had brought him. He knew that Gerard wouldn't have actually gone and sought out Frank to kidnap him, and he knew Gerard probably hadn't ever done anything to Frank either, yet it was _him _he was punishing. Gerard was definitely going to have to learn the hard way that no one interfered with his relationship with the Ieros.

"Who is it?" a muffled voice called through the door, just when Pete was about to knock again.

Pete composed himself as he brought the gun in front of him, holding it up and ready to aim as soon as Mikey opened the door. Now that he thought about it, what if Mikey wasn't the only one in there? He'd have to kill that person too. Two murders would be a bit much...

Nervously, Pete called out, "Jehovah's Witness!" He smirked to himself, remembering the old days when he repeated that line over and over again to different faces every time. Back when his parents still had him under their control, five long years ago. Back to the place where he had learned how to use his charm to suck people in to believing the words coming from his mouth. His skill of persuasion was one thing he was glad he had learned from his childhood years. And he was soon able to use the skill of persuasion elsewhere…

"I came earlier and someone told me you're here mostly at night, and they suggested something around this time," he continued, trying to sound younger than he was. It was working.

He heard Mikey give a sigh and he knew Mikey was immediately giving in. They always did. The doorknob rattled a bit as the door started to open, followed by Mikey's apologies. "You guys come here all the time, but I'm really not inter—''

"Shh," Pete demanded, kicking the door all the way open. The younger Way stepped back in fear of the gun that pointed bluntly at him, dropping the phone that was in his hand. His eyes widened in shock as Pete inched in placing his cell no the floor as well, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Not a word," Pete continued, and Mikey listened. There wasn't like there was anything else he could do. "I wanna know who you were talkin' to."

"N-No one," Mikey truthfully told him, stuttering. Who the hell was this guy? He had heard someone come in yesterday and bug his neighbor Louise. Maybe he shouldn't have checked up on her…

"Is that so?" Pete sneered, stepping closer. If he was going to shoot Mikey, he had to be close. His aim wasn't so good.

"I-I was t-t-trying for my b-b-brother, but he's not picking u-up."

"How _is_ Gerard?" Pete asked smugly, and Mikey gave him a confusing look.

"H-How do you know—''

"Why the hell do you think I'm here?" Pete asked, cocking the gun carelessly. Mikey flinched.

"I-Is it money?" he asked, rambling. "I have m-money. How much does he owe? I've got about $2,000 in the closet." Hopefully this would only take a few seconds. The guy would take the money, knock him out and then leave. Boy, if he ever got his hands on Gerard _now_…

"Well, he owes me more than that," Pete stated truthfully, but he headed over to the closet anyway. He hadn't planned on burglary, but why not?

"P-please, you can leave a-a-and I won't say _anything_," Mikey begged. "I'm seeing him tomorrow...he was supposed to come today, but—''

"With Frank?" Pete asked, freezing. Had he heard correctly? They were going to attempt to come back to this side of Jersey, right under his fucking nose?

Mikey kept quiet as he carefully stared Pete over, fear and realization sinking in. "Who are you?" he asked finally. He had initially thought maybe this guy was someone Gerard owed money to, but he seemed to know too much about Frank and his brother running away together.

"Your killer," Pete nonchalantly stated, stuffing his pockets with a few bucks. Mikey's heart raced once he realized his hunch about this guy being more than someone Gerard owed was right. It had to be the one and only Pete, the guy who had harassed him in the beginning about Frank. Maybe he could buy time if he convinced the dude not to do anything rash.

"Gerard needs to understand that Frank is mine and needs to come back," Pete calmly spoke after he grabbed a few more twenties. He continued, looking Mikey over. "Now, if he doesn't come to me, I'll come to him. So tell me, sonny-boy: Where the hell are they?"

"I d-d-don't know," Mikey lied, and Pete laughed.

"Don't play hero now," he told Mikey. "You said so yourself that you were going to meet them."

"I n-never said I knew where they lived though," Mikey tried to reason to him. "I'm supposed to meet him in a public place—''

"Don't play smart with me!" Pete warned, inching closer and closer to his prey. "I want your brother to stop fucking around!"

"If you l-let me go, I'll tell him tomorrow."

"He's not gonna listen."

"I'll call," Mikey pleaded.

"He's not gonna fucking _answer_!" Pete shouted. "It's twelve in the damn morning!"

"Please," Mikey sobbed, breaking down in front of the cold man in front of him.

"I want to know where the fuck they are," Pete snarled.

"I. Don't. Know," Mikey angrily snapped, tears in his eyes. Hopefully the Pete guy would leave it at that and let him go. "If you kill me, how does that get you to Frank? It just makes you a wanted man."

"There, sonny-boy, is where you're wrong," Pete said, throwing the gun in the air. Mikey flinched when Pete caught it, because the gun clicked. Pete just chuckled, tossing it hand to hand. "It's on safety," he told his captive after he gave his weapon a long gaze. Then, with a flick of his finger...

"Now, it's _not_," he snorted, grinning to himself. Mikey could tell that he wasn't bluffing either, because now the Pete guy was more careful with it, holding out more towards Mikey than himself incase it went off.

"Now, to answer your question," Pete continued. "I kill you, and then your pathetic mingling brother comes. With Frankie, of course."

"But w-won't they find out who killed—''

"Nope, cuz luckily for me, no one here know who the hell I am. And," Pete continued, raising his free glove-covered hand, "latex isn't only for safe sex, you know." Pete brought the gun back up, aiming at Mikey's head. "And the worst thing about it, for you at least, is the fact this shitty apartment has no videos, webcams, _security_...once this comes out, they'll link it with the kidnap of Frank." Pete cocked his gun once more and by the look of his eyes, Mikey knew he was done for. There was no point arguing with Pete now. That would just expedite his death. Maybe he had a chance when the gun was on safety, but he never took full advantage because he hadn't known.

"So, anything you feel like telling me _now_?" Pete taunted. He saw a tear makes its way down Mikey's face as Mikey shook his head.

"I'm not telling you were they are…" Mikey vowed to him, choosing his last words carefully. Pete gave a nonchalant shrug, although he was pissed the hell off. He was _definitely _going to kill this fucker. Maybe Gerard would understand _now_.

"...but I hope that whatever happens, _they _win," Mikey said, and Pete gave a chuckle.

"How sad," Pete laughed, now using both his arms to hold the weapon steadily. Pete took aim at his smart victim, who knew that if he tried to run for it, he'd definitely be shot more than once and it'd be painful as hell. Whereas if he had just stayed still and let Pete shoot him once, the death would be sweet and short. But this was Pete they were talking about, someone Mikey obviously didn't know. His goal here tonight was to cause Gerard immense pain that would make him surrender. How the hell would that happen if he let Mikey die virtually pain free?

Besides, Mikey earned himself a few more shots for lying to him.

"Too bad you won't be here to see it," Pete finished, pulling the gun's trigger all the way without a second thought.

One _bang _echoed throughout the room, and Mikey collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony at the enormous pain at his chest. It wasn't supposed to hurt this bad. He was supposed to die, leave…

It wasn't soon until one more followed, aiming for Mikey's leg to watch Mikey squirm in pain. Bet the fucker wanted to die this time, huh? There was no way he'd let him go peacefully. As he watched the image in front of him, he could already smell the blood seeping onto the floor. Gerard was definitely going to bring Frank back to him.

Mikey was now heaving heavily, chocking on the blood rising in his throat. Pete gave a menacing chuckle, walking over to Mikey as he spat up blood. "Bet you wished you were dead now," he said, and Mikey replied with another cough, gripping on to the dirty floor as he wheezed his last breaths. "Better yet, you probably wished you told me where the fuck they are," he finished, kicking Mikey's chest before he pulled away and aimed yet another shot in his victim's head, ending his misery.

He had done it, and it was over with. It seemed surreal, but he was sure that by the end of this week, the news would definitely be heard, and Frank should make it home by the beginning of Halloween morning, latest by the first week in November. He heard a sickening trickle of fresh blood making contact with the floor and he cautiously traveled back with his gun raised to make sure everything was under control.

Pete stood around in silence, waiting for any other noises or signs that anyone had heard the gunshots. But ten, twenty, _thirty _minutes passed without a car down the street as he stood over Mikey's body, almost admiring his work. He couldn't believe he had actually done it and nothing was happening to him yet. It gave him even more hope about his plan and he was motivated to look through Mikey's things for some more money, and possibly some more answers. It wasn't long until he found Mikey's check book and found some directions to _Danny's Motel_, which was down a couple of counties and at the most, ten miles maybe?

He couldn't believe that Gerard hadn't gone so far. He could have easily bumped into the two of them. Frank's home itself was a whole other county, meaning that they were even closer to Frank's home than he had thought.

Pete nosily snooped onto Mikey's answering machine, clicking on 'Last played message' to see what he had been listening to. His stomach got into a knot when he heard Gerard's voice echo throughout the room.

_"Hey Mikes, it's me. Listen, um...I was wondering if we could meet up, you know...? Like you offered to a while ago...I think the last time we spoke? I can't remember. Any way, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I haven't been calling you as often. Things are just...Frankie did something for me last night that was really special, so there's my excuse. Anyway, I—wait! I didn't mean it like that I swear! He pierced his ears for me, is what I meant to say, and you know how scared I am of needles. And just the thought of him driving that thing through his ear was...anyway, yeah...we wanna come over. I was thinking maybe today, but maybe not, cuz I want to treat Frankie out—get your head out of the fucking gutter, Mikes—but maybe tomorrow...so...yeah. Call me, Mikey, okay? Okay...bye."_

So Frank had gone and willingly done something like that for Gerard? Pete sputtered in disbelief. "W-what the hell was _that_?" Frank giving himself his own _piercing_? Since when? While he was with Frank, it had been a battle to get the dweeb to do anything like that. Although, one time he was able to get Frank to get a tattoo of a jack-o-lantern on himself. He had claimed it would be for his birthday, something the two of them would share. An 'experience' he had put it. His gift to him.

Frank had gotten it, but he wasn't psyched about it at all, compared to how much he spoke about his other piercings and that finger tattoo thing he had going on before Pete came along. Not to mention his lip ring also. All of those he had proudly displayed. But the tattoo he had gotten on his back was the one thing Frank always tried to cover up. On even the hottest of summers, he would choose to wear a t-shirt to cover his back, instead of going shirtless.

But now that he was with Gerard, he was back to his old self, it seemed.

Jealousy spiked itself through Pete's veins as he angrily took another breath. Things seemed to be hitting off with the two of them. And even though he had a little talk to Gerard about Frankie and Gerard denied anything there, he found it hard to believe that Gerard had been telling the truth. He had just told his brother to get his mind out of the gutter, meaning that Mikey had suspected the same thing. But Gerard wouldn't lie to his brother. It was evident that he trusted him with his life, which was precisely why Mikey had lost his. Pete had to say, Mikey was a pretty good brother. Too bad he had belonged to Gerard…

Several times he passed Mikey's corpse, a sanguine pool of blood surrounding him...or should he now say it. He wondered if anyone would be able to solve this murder. Would they frame it on Gerard as well, or would they blame a random burglary? He was after all, stealing objects from the home. If he had just left Mikey's dead body and scrammed, they might have connected it to Gerard. But now?

Did it even matter? Either way, he wasn't going to get caught, no in a place like this. Crime was an everyday thing in Newark. And justice? That didn't belong in Newark in general, especially not in places and apartments like these. Crimes were unsolved everyday. Mikey would just be another name to add on their 'Cold Cases'.

And he was going to make sure that Gerard knew who had done it, if Gerard hadn't already figured it out himself.

Pete gave a glance at his cell phone that lay on the floor, next to Mikey's, when he remembered everything was still recording. He gave a chuckle as he headed towards them, murmuring an, "I did it, Gerard" before he flipped his phone shut. The message had been a good five minutes or so, but he didn't think the length of the message would worry Gerard. He'd listen to it all.

Another idea captured Pete's attention when he grabbed Mikey's phone. He could always use it, right? It's not like anyone would know that Mikey was dead...better yet, Gerard would have no idea Mikey was dead. He could find out all the personal info he needed by grabbing it right under Gerard's own fucking nose! How would Gerard like that idea of using something that wasn't his? It didn't matter just how much Gerard had felt he was obliged to help Frank, Frank was _Pete's_ problem, and he hoped what just occurred here would refresh Gerard's memory.

He couldn't help but grin at the wide-eyed corpse on the floor. Mikey had kept his promise to Gerard, although it had been pretty pointless since Pete had planned on raiding the place afterwards anyway. "You're helping me, sonny-boy," he sang to him, tauntingly, as if he were still alive. He waved Mikey's cell in front of his starless eyes as he sang again with a menacing smile, "You're helping me..."


	37. Mistakes

**Mistakes**

Tina shifted in bed, her eyes wide in the dark. She was trying to sleep, but the sleep wasn't coming to her. She hadn't seen Pete all day, and she was worried. He had let himself be consumed by Gerard's younger brother. She hoped he'd find his way back. She was getting worried about him. He hadn't sounded like himself when she called him. He sounded preoccupied, and that was an hour ago.

It was now 2:00 A.M.

Her fingers played with the loose threads of the covers as her eyes remained open and unblinking. What if Pete encountered Mikey? She couldn't imagine what would happen if the two men met. Would Pete start a fight with Gerard's younger brother? Would it ever get serious? It didn't seem fair that he wanted to take things out on Mikey. He hadn't done anything to him personally.

Tina stiffened when she heard heavy footsteps near the door and she heard the sound of keys jingling. Sure enough, Pete opened the door and entered the room, dumping a pile of papers on the dresser. He switched on the lights and gave a small gasp when he realized Tina was still awake.

"What're you doing awake?" he asked, giving her a small smile. He turned his attention to the items he had picked up from Mikey's place and looked them over once more, carefully.

"I couldn't sleep," Tina said, rubbing her eyes from the burst of light. She wouldn't tell Pete that she was worried about him. He'd never understand. Maybe a few months ago, but ever since Frank ran away, he'd changed. "Where were _you_?"

"Just out," he replied, yawning. He took out his gun and laid it on the table. Tina's eyes widened as she heard the metal clink loudly against the dresser.

"Out doing _what_?" she warily asked, sitting up in bed.

"Gerard's brother and I met," he simply said, shrugging. He held up a cell phone that Tina didn't recognize and hit a few buttons before setting it down with a satisfied sigh.

"You didn't...kill him...did you?" Pete gave a chuckle and gave another shrug as he took out a checkbook. A look of horror flashed on Tina's face.

"So he's..."

"Gone," Pete nonchalantly verified, tossing the checkbook back on the table. He began to take off his clothes and he set them in a corner of the room. "I'll have to burn them later," he muttered as he entered the bed. Tina was still paralyzed in shock and he chuckled at her reaction.

"This is serious Pete," she finally said. She turned her body to face his. "You killed somebody. Once they find you, it's over."

"Exactly," Pete agreed. "And Gerard comes home with Frank."

"And you'll go to jail," she finished. "I don't see the point in all this hard work and you just ending up in jail." Pete shook his head, disagreeing with her statement.

"You're wrong there," Pete said. "Maybe I'd go to jail if the whole of the country was looking for me. Maybe even if the whole of N.J. was looking for me. Bur this is Newark honey. Shit happens everyday. The police suck ass on their job, and they've earned themselves a fine reputation. I doubt anyone's gonna do research on poor old Mikey." Tina couldn't argue too much with him there. Crimes always occurred in Newark, and people have learned to just carry on once something has happened to a loved one. Those who aren't strong enough to move along with their lives move.

But the fact that he had taken a life away...

"You still can't play 'God'," she demanded.

"Why not?" Pete asked, chuckling. "I worked for the dude all my life," he responded, referring to the Jehovah Witness work he used to do. He gave a tired yawn as he snuggled into bed, unconcerned.

Tina shook her head in disagreement, but she headed over to Pete's clothes. It was apparent that Pete wanted Frank back really bad, and he was willing to do anything to get him back. And he'd already killed Mikey. No use sobbing over it now. Tina definitely wasn't giving him in, so she had evidence to get rid of. "So you want me to burn the clothes here, or out in the back?" she quietly asked, getting a hold of his nauseatingly bloodied jacket.

* * *

"Hey sleepy head," Gerard muttered playfully, gently shoving Frank. "Wake up." Frank gave a groan and continued his light snoring. Gerard couldn't blame him, though. They had come home pretty late last night...or should he say _this _early morning. It'd been nice still, the two of them sleeping in each other's arms. A late passenger who had walked in on them asleep woke them up. Gerard had awoken, but Frank was knocked out. So he'd carried Frank on his back the whole way to the motel.

Of course, they had earned a few odd stares from Dan again, whom Frank had told the 'period' story to. Gerard had tried to smile or do anything to make up for the awkwardness, but there wasn't much he could do with Frank on his back, resting his head on the crook of Gerard's neck and holding on to Gerard like he was some teddy bear. All he could manage was a chuckle, and Dan shook his head at the two weirdos and looked elsewhere.

Gerard sighed, remembering last night as he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He couldn't believe he had given in to Frank so easily. He knew part of it had to do with the fact that he had been extremely hard, but where was his control? He had none.

Actually, he had to give himself some credit, he reasoned. He hadn't really done anything to Frank, so the little masturbation session they had was okay. He was completely glad that he'd chosen to go out to New York with Frank yesterday. He'd had a good time and he was sure Frank had, too.

He couldn't help but chuckle out loud when he remembered the handcuffs he'd bought for the two of them. It was obvious what his body wanted, but less obvious what he wanted _mentally_. He knew he had to decide whether or not he'd go for it. It looked like he was losing the battle, though. First he was completely against the idea, then he was for it, and the next second later he was against it...but it was obvious where he subconsciously wanted things to head. He'd bought _handcuffs_.

As he exited the bathroom Gerard passed by the entertainment center, where he had hid the accessory, and opened the door to check if Frank had possibly woken in the middle of the night to find them there. Luckily he hadn't, and Gerard doubted that he ever would. Frank barely came up here when he had the remote. As long as Gerard kept the remote at arms length for Frank, Frank would definitely find no reason to look around there.

After double checking the presence of the cuffs, Gerard decided that he needed to wake Frank up now if they were ever to make it to Mikey's by nightfall. His plan was to talk a bit and chill out with Frank before they would start to head off to Mikey's in the afternoon so that they'd get there by night and sleep over. Hopefully, the whole ordeal would be over and Frank's folks would understand the misunderstanding and not press any charges on him. And hopefully over at Mikey's place they would also come up with some sort of plan for the future. Whether it was another escape plan or a plan of surrender, at least they would have a plan.  


* * *

  
Frank laid in bed, wearing a stupid grin on his face as he awoke from his unconscious state. He couldn't help but grin when he remembered coming home on Gerard's back, his boyfriend kind enough to let him stay asleep through the night. Gerard was perfect in every sense. They had no secrets from each other...at least on Gerard's part, and they really liked each other as well, on both emotionally and physically...what more could anyone ask for?

_ A whole lot more_, a nagging voice in Frank's head replied. _And you already have._

Frank took a relaxing deep breath as he tried to erase the thoughts. He'd listened to that voice whenever he had his hopes up too high, because most of the time when it came to things like this, that voice was right. But that was months ago, when he had been in Pete's control. He was with Gerard, and they were two separate people, two separate entities. What Gerard did yesterday was something Pete would have never done...well, the ending part at least. Gerard was nicer...

_Too nice_, it responded immediately. _Gerard didn't do that for the reason you think. He just knows how to pretend_.

Pretend what? Frank wondered, but he knew where the voice was trying to head with this.

_He doesn't love you, if that's what you're thinking..._

He doesn't have to, Frank stubbornly thought back to himself.

_Wasn't that your mentality with Pete? And look where it landed you,_ it pointed out.

The voice was becoming annoying, pounding Frank with tons of doubt behind his closed eyes. Gerard was not Pete. Maybe if he were, these thoughts would make sense, but he wasn't. He was funny, unselfish, generous, cute—adorable sometimes, empathetic, _far _more caring—

_ Because he's faking!_ The voice shrilly interrupted. Frank gave a grown when he felt a sudden burst of light heat glide over his face. Gerard had probably opened the window, which meant he had to wake up soon. He was about to wake up with these stupid thoughts in his head, and that wasn't good. Because Gerard could sometimes read Frank like a book. He was sure that by the end of today—if he didn't get the voice of uncertainty to shut up—he'd spill the beans and Gerard would find out and become devastated.

But, as Frank tried to think up of a response he heard someone yell, "It's Halloween!" Hopefully, by enacting his birthday plans, the voice would definitely be convinced...

* * *

"Wake up," Gerard demanded as he threw open the curtains. A beam of bright light entered the dim room and Frank gave another grumble of protest. His flawless face gave a look of annoyance at the sound of Gerard trying to wake him up. Gerard waited for Frank to eventually rise, but it never happened. So he cruelly joked, "Wake up, it's Halloween!"

Frank immediately arose and opened his eyes, only to squeeze them shut again when he was greeted with the light. "M'birthday?" Gerard thought he heard Frank grumble in response. He gave a chuckle, completely missing Frank's slip up as he picked up a pillow and threw it at Frank.

"No. It's _Halloween_," he reiterated.

"Really?" Frank asked in a hopeful voice, gripping the pillow excitedly. It was when Gerard shook his head and started laughing that Frank dryly pretended to chuckle as well, before stopping abruptly and throwing the stuffed pillow back at his boyfriend.

"Not funny," he snapped, going back to bed.

"Aw, Frankie! Get up," Gerard pleaded. "You're already awake. I can't carry you on my back all the way to Mikey's, can I?"

"Who knows," Frank joked. "I think you may need the work out."

Gerard gave him and glare and stopped pleading. "Wake up _now_, Iero."

"Awww, did I hurt your feelings?" Frank asked tauntingly, eyes still closed.

"Wake up before I sit on you with my fat ass," Gerard warned, a smug expression on his own. Frank gave yet another grumble but moved this time.

"Why are we in a hurry anyway?" Frank demanded, stretching.

"Mikey's place today, remember?" Gerard reminded him, and Frank groggily got up.

"I'm only getting up for Mikey," Frank warned Gerard playfully. "He didn't _lie _to me and tell me today was Halloween so I could wake up."

"It worked, didn't it?" Gerard asked teasingly.

"Halloween is like...give me the name of something 'holy' or something like that," Frank demanded. "No, wait, I got it. Halloween is like a bag of Skittles, Gee."

"Skittles?"

"Skittles," Frank repeated. "You don't mess around with something like that."

"Right, I get it," Gerard said, his voice thick with humor. "Because Skittles is the best thing to come around since—"

"Since me," Frank interrupted him, earning a shove.

"Fine," Gerard agreed, pleased with the amusing side of Frank. "But I still don't get it."

"It's like...how you didn't ever have Skittles before," Frank tried to explain. "But you did, and you had to admit they were pretty damn awesome." Gerard gave a small shrug, as if to say 'They're okay...'

"And when Halloween comes, it'll be like you discovering Skittles all over again," Frank hinted, finishing. Gerard didn't catch it though, and Frank left the bed to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth. Gerard stayed in the room, thinking about what Frank had said. In a couple minutes or so, Frank came out and went to the closet to pick out a top to wear. Gerard was still at the bed, thinking about Frank's Skittle analogy.

"So are you telling me I won't find out what you like so much about Skittles until Skittles-day?" Gerard asked.

"What?" Frank asked in delayed time, his mind preoccupied.

"I meant the whole Halloween thing," Gerard explained. "I won't find out what you like about Halloween until Halloween?"

"Correct," Frank replied, throwing a shirt over his head. After that struggle was done with, he wiggled his butt in Gerard's face. "And I bet you're gonna like it," he sang. Gerard gave a snort and looked away, blushing. Frank was obviously relaxed today. He was up and about, throwing disses at Gerard and playfully bragging about himself. It was a big change from the reserved and polite Frank. This was more 'Frankie' like, and he liked it a whole lot more. Today would be the perfect day to visit Mikey.

"Just hurry it up and get ready for breakfast," Gerard demanded lightheartedly.

"What're we having?" Frank asked, turning around. "I'm not really that hungry..."

"How about that cafe?" Gerard responded. "I mean, they're the only place we've been and I know they have coffee for sure."

"Okay," Frank agreed, putting on his jeans. He put on his jeans and then buried himself back into the closet to find some shoes.

He still couldn't find a way to dispute the fact that Gerard did like him, and it wasn't just him playing 'nice'. He couldn't though. What the voice pointed out was all very true...Gerard could easily just be plain old nice. That was the reason why he'd 'kidnapped' him in the first place, right? He would've felt bad for sending Frank back to a place where he knew Frank was unhappy. So he'd risked his record and kidnapped him...that was how this all started, wasn't it?

He was still beating himself for giving into the voice when Gerard happily interrupted his thoughts with a, "And then we're off to Mikey's!"

* * *

"So what would you two like?" a waiter asked them. Frank took a look up and recognized the face of the man who gave them a hard time previously. But the man obviously hadn't recognized them.

"Coffee!" Gerard immediately responded. "Coffee, please."

"Sure thing," the guy politely replied, taking note of it. "And you?" he asked, turning to Frank.

Frank was surprised by his change in attitude. Maybe he'd leave a big tip today... "Um, if you'd have any soymilk, that'd be great," he started. "But if not, water's fine." The man's smile faltered a bit when he recalled something oddly familiar about the request. Once Frank threw him his polite smile, it all came back to him.

He had to give it to the faggot couple. They'd changed their looks up a bit, especially the soy-crazy fruit cup. He gave Frank and Gerard a glare before asking, "Anything else, princesses?"

Frank could tell by the tone of his voice that he'd remembered, so he cautiously asked, "So do you happen to have the soy? Cuz I'd just take wat—''

"Yeah, since the last time your ass dropped by, people've been asking for it non-stop," he replied angrily. "Do you know how expensive that stuff is?"

"Well, it isn't real milk," Frank explained to him. "It's healthier, and healthier stuff is more expensive. So I don't mind leaving behind a big tip for you if it's digging in your paycheck."

"It's not even about that," the guy lied. There was no way he'd let the faggot have pity on him. "It's just a hassle going out of my way to find some of that shit."

"Dude, that isn't very employee-like," Gerard interrupted.

"Well, I'm not your boss, so maybe you should take it up with him," Frank politely suggested, trying to end the conversation. "I'll still leave you a big tip if you'd like."

"I don't want your faggot money," he snapped at Frank. He was about to turn away when he spotted Frank's latest addition to the makeover: his earrings.

"You know," he started as he turned back around, "you can dress yourself up all you fucking want, but that'll never hide the facts from anyone. And that fact, my friend, is that you're a faggot. A mistake. I bet you did all that work so I wouldn't recognize your scrawny ass..."

"Give us our drinks," Gerard demanded, interrupting the man's pointless speech. "I want my fucking coffee, so move it." The guy stared Frank down and went off into the back to prepare Gerard's drink and get Frank's soymilk.

"Don't pay attention to the shit head, baby," Gerard said, a hand against Frank's arm.

Frank sat in his seat trying to shrug off all that the guy said, but he couldn't. Although the man was very off when it came to the reason why he had changed his look, he'd been pretty close. But Frank had to change his look. There was no other option.

_You could've just let Gerard go that night,_ the voice returned as it scolded him. _Then there'd be no need for all the 'dress up' that guy was talking about._

But he and Gerard both agreed that night was nothing to regret. It landed them with each other, didn't it? Had he not done that, he might've never seen Gerard again. And their relationship that they had now would have never existed.

_Who's to say that Gerard wanted to be in this 'relationship'?_ the voice reminded him.

At first, Frank tried to disagree with that point, but it wasn't long until he became convinced by the possibility. He'd been fighting the idea all morning, and it'd gotten him nowhere but even more doubtful. What he was lead to thinking made some sense. Gerard could have simply agreed that day because of the circumstance. This whole thing—relationship—could be a joke. But if it had been a joke, why'd they have that little session back at the subway?

It's called being smart and taking advantage of what's in front of you, like anyone would do, the cold voice returned. Yeah, that could be it, too, Frank glumly agreed. Gerard could have easily agreed with yesterday because he knew how much Frank wanted it and he was too nice to say 'no'

Just thinking back on it again, it made some more sense when Frank thought about the first day once more. Because of how much he cared for Frank, out of pity, he'd decided he'd take him away instead of bring the poor kid back home. And then it'd been too late for him to send Frank back on his own, so he decided to keep Frank for a while longer. He knew that if he'd let Frank go on his own, Frank would never go home and he'd blame himself for it. So rather than have that happen, he'd decided to keep Frank. And then Frank, being the needy and pathetic person that he was, started liking the guy in ways he wasn't supposed to. And he opened his fucking mouth about it, so now this guy couldn't say 'no'. Again, Gerard was too nice. And if he was nice enough to 'kidnap' Frank, then he was nice enough to humor his little crush.

No wonder Gerard wanted to stay away from him all this time, he figured as the waiter made his way back to their table. He hadn't truly liked him enough to go any further. So all those boners and dreams he had were only a natural result of someone bothering the hell out of you. Maybe this relationship was forced, Frank figured. Since he'd come out and told Gerard he liked him, Gerard felt like he had to like him back and as a result, he was bound to feel some of the same things Frank had for him.

He was such a parasite, Frank realized, biting a nail feverishly as he ultimately gave in.

"You okay, babe?" Gerard asked worriedly. He knew Frank was easily influenced, and he hoped none of the jerk's words got to his head. "You're not still thinking about the crap that guy had to say, right?" Frank gave his guilt-trapped boyfriend a small smile as he shook his head, and he watched as his quarry gave him a heartfelt smile and rubbed his shoulder.

The waiter appeared at the table with Gerard's coffee and Frank's soymilk. He handed the coffee to Gerard and tossed the bottle of soymilk towards Frank, who still had his nail in his mouth. Frank caught it and set in down, still thinking...

"Here's your coffee and your faggy soymilk, you little screw up," the man said, taking the money from Gerard's hands. Gerard flipped the guy off as he left the two customers to head back, and Frank uttered words Gerard never leave his mouth before.

"_Fuck _you!" he boldly snapped.

The waiter turned around, completely surprised. He wasn't the only one, either. Frank had never said words like that around Gerard, and Gerard had never heard him use language like that to people outside in the public. Gerard couldn't help but feel a bit guilty, because he always cursed around Frank. But he decided for the moment, and because it was directed at that particular guy, it was worth it. A shocked and surprised expression was locked on the man's face.

Gerard was sure he'd thought Frank would let him walk all over his small body. The shock still hadn't worn off as the man slowly backed away from the table. If the guy was hoping to walk it off, he was dead wrong. All of the customers and employees had seen the scene. And if they hadn't seen it, they'd sure heard it. He was going to have to deal with this.

"Dude, it was just a joke," he shakily said, looking over at his co-eds. They offered no help, and the consumers sat in their seats, watching the scene unfold in front of them.

"I don't think it was funny at all, and neither does he," Frank evenly stated. He turned to Gerard, who was amazed by the many personalities his boyfriend seemed to have today. He was giddy one minute, pensive the next, and threatening in another. "_Do _you?" he asked him. By the tone of Frank's voice, Gerard couldn't disagree...not that he would anyway. In fact, with the firm voice Frank was using, he didn't even need an answer from Gerard at all. But Gerard responded to Frank nonetheless, shaking his head.

"No," he answered, playing along with Frank and glaring at the man.

"You see?" Frank asked, tapping his fingers along the edge of the table. "It's not just me who thinks your 'joke' sucks ass."

A door clicked from behind and the worker immediately gulped. "I'm, uh..."

In another second, all the guy's co-workers began working again, going on rounds and taking orders from the customers whose eyes were still on Frank. It didn't take Gerard long to figure out why the associates immediately continued to work when he saw an elderly man stand behind the waiter who had started it all. The elderly man wasn't someone you'd help out across the street. Well, Gerard had to take that back, because the guy was pretty old, but he could tell that he was tough, and had seen many things during his sixty plus years of life. He wouldn't want to mess with him at all, and he almost felt sorry when he was certain that the waiter was about to lose his job in a matter of minutes.

"I'm sorry," the waiter finally said, and life in the cafe was somewhat active once more. But all eyes were still peering in their direction.

"What do we have here?" the manager gruffly asked, lifting his belt.

Apparently, behind Frank's tough act he had a soft spot as well. "Nothing sir. Just...a misunderstanding was all."

"Over what?" the man asked, a bit annoyed that he had come out for nothing. Frank was debating whether or not to rat out on the guy when an outsider answered for him.

"That man over there was giving him a hard time because he was gay," a woman from another table reported, a bit bothered herself. "Do you have something against homosexuals?" she demanded, rising. A few more people seemed bothered by the accusation and once more, the place was quiet. Even if an old fashioned man like himself did have a thing against them, for the sake of his cafe, he had to deny it.

"Drake, is it true?" the man asked the waiter. The server gave a huge sigh and bit his lip. The manager turned to Gerard when he received the obvious answer and stated aloud, "I apologize for the actions and behavior of any of the cafe workers. This cafe does not encourage such acts towards those of different sexual preferences. We all eat, afterall," he tried to joke to his harsh crowd.

They seemed unmoving and Gerard felt bad for him, so to help out the old guy he added, "And we need coffee, too," rising up his own cup. With the approval of the picked on gay couple that Drake had bothered, the crowd seemed to ease up a bit and relaxed.

"I deeply apologize and—'' he snatched the money from Drake's hand and handed it to Gerard "—your meal here is free, okay?" He gave Gerard a smile and Gerard smiled back. The old man tried to do the same with Frank however, and he could tell Frank still felt a bit down and that this was the young man that Drake had picked on. The kid reminded him so much of his grandson. His grandson wasn't gay, but if there was a jerk going around making him feel this way if he was...

"As for you," he started with Drake, turning to head back to his office. "You come here with me." Drake sulked to the office, muttering curses at all the gays in the world. Why not? He was getting fired anyway. It wasn't like he'd be working anywhere near here again.

A moment or so after Drake had gone, activity had gone back up and the woman who had helped them out earlier before got up to leave, patting Frank on the back.

"Nice sticking up for yourself," she said, smiling. Frank gave her a distant smile "My son's gay, too. I like how you've taught your son how to defend himself, y'know? My son wasn't so lucky. He had to learn on his own," she continued, turning to Gerard. Gerard couldn't help but stifle in a giggle at her mistaken belief. "It annoys the hell out of me how cruel people can be."

"It's definitely a problem," Gerard agreed, touching Frank's knee. Frank hadn't responded, his fingernail back in his mouth. He still seemed to be troubled.

"Well...the sooner we get rid of the cruel people in this world, the better," the woman voiced. Gerard gave a nod and felt a tap on his shoulder from Frank.

"Gee?" Frank quietly asked, rising up.

"Yeah, babe?"

"I think I'll be outside," he said, his mind and body obviously not in the same place. Gerard pecked a kiss on Frank's lips and Frank mindlessly did the same, heading off to the entrance of the cafe. When Gerard turned around, the woman was still there. This time, she was stifling in the giggles.

"You aren't father and son, are you?" she realized, laughing at herself.

"No," Gerard admitted, smiling a bit himself. "Why? Do I look that old?"

"No," she said. "He just looks so young. I'm surprised it doesn't bother you," she mulled over, smiling at Gerard and patting him on the back. "You guys are a very cute couple though..."  


* * *

  
Frank sat on the bench that belonged to a bus stop that was located across the cafe. He still couldn't get his mind off what the guy—Drake—had said. And he couldn't help but rethink everything up to this point. It was very obvious to Frank that Pete was successful with feeding his parents with enough shit to keep them satisfied, or else they would have been spotted by the cafe-goers. And that woman would definitely not be starting up conversation with a convicted rapist and kidnapper. With the way she'd quickly defended Frank, she'd probably be the first one to report them if she had known.

But what bothered him the most, he figured, was the fact that a jerk like Drake hit the hammer right on the nail. They were definitely prettying their selves up, but it was because of the circumstance they were in. A circumstance they wouldn't have been in if Frank had just...

He watched as Gerard and the woman walked out of the cafe, still engaged in conversation. That was the type of life Gerard deserved. Out mingling with society, not cooped up in a room like some prisoner. Gerard didn't need to live like one because he did. Again, this was where Gerard's nice personality unfortunately pitched in.

"It was nice talking to you," Gerard called out as he headed toward Frank. The woman waved back, departing from the area. She made sure she waved to Frank before she turned the corner also, which made his boyfriend chuckle. Frank feebly waved back.

"Hey, sweetie," Gerard greeted Frank, putting his arm over Frank's neck and pulling him close as he sat on the bench too. "You okay?"

"Um-hm," Frank lied, trying to give Gerard a genuine smile. But it just didn't match up to the ones he had given Gerard earlier today, when he was truly happy, less convinced by that stupid voice.

"What's wrong?" Gerard asked, completely concerned as he gave Frank a soft squeeze. Frank shook his head and refused to speak his mind, avoiding eye contact.

"Tell me, sugar," Gerard pleaded, hugging Frank. "Does it have anything to do with the shit that Drake kid said?"

He tried to keep silent, but it proved futile. "He's right," Frank mumbled weakly against the chest of the man he had trapped into his sick and twisted spell.

"Frankie, nothing is wrong with being gay," Gerard told him, Frank's true concerns flying over his head. "And you're not a mistake."

"Not that, Gee." With Frank's quiet and reserved voice, Gerard pulled back slightly and gave a puzzled look.

"Then what? What else did he say?" he asked. "Did that fucker say something else?"

"No," Frank assured him. "But he was right about the whole idea of 'prettying' myself up."

"Is that it?" Gerard asked, a wave of relief overcoming him. "Honey, he's wrong about that too."

"How?"

"You didn't pretty yourself up 'cuz you're already pretty enough," he said, smiling. His smile slightly faded when Frank didn't smile back.

Another white lie, due to his polite character.

"I'm serious, Gee." Frank insisted. "All this trouble we're going through—you're going through—because of how unhappy I was...we shouldn't be here. We should be back home. You should be back home with Mikey."

"Two things, Frankie," Gerard responded. "I thought we decided that 'Home' was Room 16. And as for that 'Mikey' comment? We are visiting Mikey today, aren't we?"

"It shouldn't have to be a visit," Frank said somberly. "I don't like the feel of how things are going..."

"Why don't we go back to the motel, pack up, and go see what Mikes thinks?" Gerard asked, rising from the benches. "Mikes is waiting, Frankie," he teased. Frank's heavy mood still hadn't lifted.

"We shouldn't be here," Frank repeated.

"Then where should we be?" Gerard asked. "Humor me."

"I should be back at home...that building," Frank corrected. "You should be living with Mikey...I should have paid you the money and let you and Mikey live your lives on your own accord. It wasn't right to drag you here with me."

"If I remember correctly, you pulled this same stunt the day after we left your house and I dragged you here."

"I should have never asked you to kidnap me. Then we wouldn't be here, and I wouldn't be your boyfriend," Frank quietly murmured, and Gerard immediately released him.

"What?" he sputtered. "Frank, what are you saying?"

"You're too nice for your own good," Frank said, trying to get Gerard to see things his way, the obvious way. "You literally risked your life, and will ultimately pay for it...pay for me."

"Frank, you're looking in too deep into what that jerk said," Gerard cautiously stated. "And I'm not paying for anything."

"What do you mean by that?" Frank asked, incredulously. "Sooner or later, it'll leak out who we actually are and what we've 'done'."

"We haven't done anything," Gerard replied.

"Yeah, but does everyone else know that?" Frank demanded. "You're putting in too much faith into the justice system, Gerard. Even justice isn't fair sometimes. If you know the right people, you're safe. I don't know those people, and neither do you, babe. Even if they knew me, it'd be by my parents, and you know what they think of you..."

"Don't worry, Frankie," Gerard said. "It's been a while. Three months even. I doubt anything's gonna happen now."

"Exactly," Frank said. "Three months, and we've heard nothing. Something is bound to happen soon, Gee. I'm scared."

"There's no reason to be scared," Gerard said, dismissing Frank's thoughts. Frank couldn't be scared. The only reason he was still here was because Frank seemed to have things a little bit controlled and in shape, enjoying himself the last couple of weeks. But if Frank was starting to doubt...

"I've been watching those 'Prison' shows and our odds don't look so good," Frank continued fearfully. "We need to go back. I appreciate you caring enough to help me out, but you need to send me back."

"Back?" Gerard asked. "Why'd I ever send you back?"

"Gerard, you are an extremely amazing guy," Frank said, holding his boyfriend's arms tightly. He gave it a kiss before he continued. "But life's not always fair based on how nice you are...although it should."

"What're you talking about?"

"About the fact that your little 'deeds' are gonna cost you big time."

"Deed?" Gerard asked. "Kidnapping you?"

"Yeah. I understand you did it to be nice and all—"

"Well...yeah," Gerard admitted. "But I did it to be selfish, too."

"—and the whole thing about not letting me go out on my own cuz you knew I'd never go back and letting it turn into something this serious with us changing our hair and me trying to change my appearance...it's gone too far." Frank looked like he was about to cry, but there were no tears, at least not yet. "We can try and change our appearances...but it's not hiding the fact that we're going to be wanted and eventually brought back...lives already ruined..."

"Frank, my life is not ruined because of this. Believe me," Gerard chuckled. Frank glared at him.

"Nothing is funny. _Nothing_. This is your _life _we're talking about."

"And I'm one hundred percent satisfied with it," Gerard finished. "I'm off living with my perfect boyfriend—''

"That's another issue," Frank interrupted him.

"What?"

"Just...you're too polite, kind, generous..."

"This is coming from you, of all people?" Gerard asked. "What's being nice got to do with anything anyway?"

"Look where being nice has gotten you, Gee," Frank demanded. "Take a good fucking look where we are. You are miles away from home and Mikey, and you constantly have to keep watching my back. And you're too damn benevolent to accept that money I wanted to give you and let me walk out."

"How was I supposed to walk out on you?" Gerard asked. "Yeah, sure I never knew we'd be miles off in wherever but I don't regret it at all. It was the right thing to do."

"You have to know where to draw the line, Gerard," Frank said. "It's like...a business, in a way. There are things we'd like to do. But you weigh out the circumstances, and do things that will benefit you in the long run."

"It did benefit me," Gerard said. "I got to see you again, didn't I?"

"Worth all this?"

"Absolutely."

Frank gave a disapproving sigh as he shook his head. "I tricked you into it."

"Into what?"

"Into being my boyfriend."

"How?" Gerard sputtered. "Frank, that guy had no idea what he was talking about. Don't let it get to you. You were so happy today."

"Because yesterday was such a cool day, Gerard," Frank admitted. "Yes, I was happy."

"Was?"

"I...I can't be anymore," he sighed. "Not after this...I'm tricking you."

"I don't get what you're trying to say," Gerard said to him. "You tricked me into being your boyfriend?" Frank nodded, and Gerard scoffed. "No, I'm pretty sure I wanted to be your boyfriend that day, Frank."

"Not right away, though," Frank pointed out. "It took some convincing..."

"That's because I know how I was thinking about you and I didn't want to actually carry out those things to such a raw and fresh guy like you," Gerard stated in his defense.

" 'Raw'?" Frank asked, shaking his head.

"Yeah, 'raw'," Gerard repeated. "Here you are after I've taken you from your home and you've never been outside that house...except for that Pete creep...you're fresh meat here in the outside world."

"See, here you go again, worrying about _my _well-being." Frank rose from the bench. "The only reason you said 'yes' that day was because I tricked you into liking me. I tricked you into kidnap. And you're too damn nice to turn anyone down. You didn't turn me down when I practically begged you to take me from that house. Why the hell would you turn down a stupid teenage crush?"

"You didn't trick me, Frank," Gerard replied. "But if you want to see things that way, _fine_. So what if you did? I don't mind it at all."

"But I do."

"What is wrong with you, Frank?" Gerard asked. "Where is all this sudden doubt from?"

"It's been around," Frank quietly answered. "Back of my mind...but it can't be anymore."

"Frank, relax," Gerard demanded. "Let's go home and pack before we head down to Mikey's okay?" Frank bit his lower lip from concentration and Gerard decided to push the envelope even further. "And is that all this is?"

"What?" Frank wearily asked.

"This. Us. Am I just a 'stupid teenage crush'?"

Frank had regretted ever saying that when he heard Gerard sorely regurgitate those words. He hadn't meant it like that. He'd only said that as a way to insult his mean tactics that he'd used on Gerard.

"It has to be," he muttered quietly. "Only reason you'd end of agreeing to be with me." Gerard glared angrily at Frank for his low esteem.

"Am I hearing that you think the only reason that I've done everything is because I'm _nice_?" Gerard asked. "That I've done this all—including going out with you—because of pity?"

"And you're so far deep that you don't realize the lengths you've gone!" Frank continued, a little bit glad Gerard was seeing things his way. "Ever since you've taken me, you've been trapped. Just because I live my life on way doesn't me you have to."

"You must not know me very well, Frank. I might've done those things to be 'nice', when it comes to kidnapping you," Gerard admitted once more. "But I'm also very greedy. By kidnapping you, I get you all to myself. I wouldn't _let _myself get tricked if I didn't want to be." Gerard rose from the bench as well. "Why does it that if someone does something for you, when I do something for you, it has to be done out of pity, or being 'nice'? Why can't it be because I feel you deserve it? Why don't you feel like you deserve it? You place yourself so low all the time..."

"Now's not the time," Frank insisted, turning to head off back to the motel. "It's been three months, and two months into school already. I'm sure Pete's probably called and got me out of school, and my parents think I'm probably at his house or in my room somewhere, sulking. We can go back, Gee."

"And not see you again?"

"You wouldn't be forced to anymore, Gerard."

"I'm not forced _now_," he snapped at Frank. "I didn't say 'yes' to be nice. I like you a whole lot, more than any stupid teenage crush that's for sure."

"Gerard, stop it, you're going home and I'm going back, too."

"Stop the bull-shitting Frank. It's completely obvious to me that Drake's scared you a bit, but I'm telling you there's nothing to worry about."

"Yes there is," Frank insisted. "You're so stubborn and hard headed too, if I might add..."

"Only when there's a need for me to be," Gerard replied. "My life is just meant to be crazy."

"I don't want to be a part of it—''

"It's a little too late for that," Gerard interrupted, muttering with a hint of sarcasm. "Three months too late..."

Gerard wanted to slap himself when he saw the hurt look on Frank's face. He hadn't meant it like that. He was being sarcastic, and it had just slipped from his mouth. Frank had to understand. There was no way he'd say that to him. He was angry, nothing he said could be held accountable for. If he had felt this way, Frank had to understand that he would've sent him back. He didn't regret it at all. He loved him.

But Frank managed to put a small heart-broken smile on his face as his eyes glazed over with tears. He had gotten the answer he thought he'd get. He should have been happy. In fact, he should have been happier that Gerard was seeing things the right way now. It'd make things a bit easier...

Gerard held his breath as he waited for a reaction from Frank, any at all besides the false smile and teary eyes. Somehow, he was sure Frank hadn't understood things the way he wished he would...

"Exactly," Frank finally croaked, backing away and turning on to the sidewalk to avoid eye contact.

Just like old times, the voice was right.

The voice is always right.


	38. Connecting the Dots Helps

**Connecting the Dots Helps...**

Gerard stayed behind as Frank walked off in a huff and he mentally slapped himself. He should have known better than to mutter something like that around Frank. Frank was so sensitive. He was hoping that Frank had known there was no way he'd meant any of that. He had just been speaking from anger and frustration. He knew that he had to fix up the argument they had quickly, before the day went by and they'd miss the bus they needed to take in order to visit Mikey.

Gerard sighed as the image of his boyfriend's body got smaller and smaller. He was angry with himself for falling into Frank's plan. For some reason, Frank was becoming paranoid about their relationship. He bit his lower lip as the connection between Frank's actions and why Frank carried them out finally clicked in his head.

But Frank should have realized it was Gerard he was dealing with, not Pete. He could tell the difference, right? Or did he remind Frank so much of Pete that Frank really wasn't at fault to guard himself and distance the two of them?

Even so, they were not the same. Gerard had finally convinced himself that. Only thing left to do was to convince Frank of that.

As Frank scurried ahead, Gerard lagged on behind him, biting a nail. He walked listlessly down the block, trying to decipher his boyfriend's sensitive mind. There was always the option of talking to Frank. Maybe then he'd understand. But that would never work, not in the state Frank was in now...And then maybe the option of kissing him was there, but Gerard crossed it out for two main reasons. One, he'd always told Frank to use words instead of his body. What would he be doing if he kissed Frank instead of talking? Being a hypocrite, that's what. And he couldn't afford to be one when it was about something as serious as to how Frank treated his body.

And two, he wasn't all that sure about this reason, but there was the possibility Frank would want to take it further and Gerard knew he'd stop them from doing so. He'd only prove Frank's twisted point he was trying to make, that Gerard was only 'nice' which was why he didn't mind kissing him but minded sleeping with him. And that was dead wrong.

Groaning, Gerard drowned in his thoughts. Frank was obviously hurt because of him, yet he had no idea how to make him feel better. Frank had ultimately succeeded in the end by successfully bringing to light some of the doubts Gerard had ended up voicing, like the point of the kidnap and the whole 'three months too late' comment...Damn it, and damn him.

But if he could do it all over again, would he? Would he go back so far as to not meeting Frank at all? He already knew the answer to his question, but he couldn't help but ask himself again, for Frank's sake. He didn't think he'd do anything different. Unless he could go back further in time and stop his parents from giving birth to him for a couple more years...other than that, he'd never change anything. Maybe he'd change a bit for Mikey's sake, he finally figured. Mikey'd still be in school, and probably even college. That kid was smart as hell. But instead, he was back at home working his ass off for minimum wage...

His mind traveled back to Pete's random threats. He wouldn't dare hurt Mikey, would he? He strongly doubted it. Gerard didn't know what he'd do anyway, if Pete had. He shuddered, shaking his head. It was taboo to wonder about death. He was sure that if he thought about it anymore, it'd definitely happen and then he'd definitely have reason to be miserable.

But he prayed it wouldn't. He hadn't heard from Pete in a while, and most of that had to do with the fact that he'd distanced himself from his phone for the last couple of hours. But if he lost Mikey in a pathetic attempt for Pete to get Frank back, Pete was sorrily mistaken. If anything, he'd be sure to guard Frank with his fucking life. Frank would be the only reason left for why he would keep living. Before Frank, he'd been living for Mikey. Mikey, his little innocent and caring brother, had moved out to move in with him even though it spelled out his doom for any progressive future. Yet he put that aside and helped Gerard out through all the tough times he'd encountered. Even though there were times during the 'kick-out' that Gerard had wanted to end it all, he couldn't. Mikey didn't deserve to have his life mauled over, only to let the screw up who was responsible for everything leave him all alone.

Frank had entered the motel now, and Gerard still had a couple more strides to go. That, along with a traffic road to cross. Once he made sure that the road was definitely clear, he proceeded to skip over to the other side. He was about half way when he suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of a roaring engine nearing him, and he quickly jogged to get on the other side of the road safely. The speeding woman slowed down as a bewildered look took hold of her face. She shot Gerard an annoyed look while she lowered her car window. To Gerard, she looked as if she'd been crying, and he was about to apologize until she opened her mouth.

"What's your fucking problem?" she demanded, waving her hands in the air. "Get the fuck out of my way. Jeez. You think you own the damn road?"

"No, but neither do you," Gerard retaliated, frustration leaking through his voice. "You shouldn't be speeding anyway."

"I'm the one with the car, so you'd better watch it," she snapped, her eyes red and rimmed with tears. "What would you have done if I had just run over your ass?" she demanded once more. The traffic light had now turned red as she faced Gerard, all her attention set on him.

"Not much I'd be able to do," Gerard replied smartly. "I'd be dead."

"Exactly." She held the steering, staring at the light intently. "You'd be dead. It'd do the world some good to get rid of people like you."

"What?" Gerard asked, scoffing as a smug look crossed his face. "Run me over?" he asked, as if almost daring her.

"Yeah, you guys. Men. Men and their trifling asses," she replied, wiping her eyes. Gerard immediately understood what the problem was. She had probably just discovered something upsetting about her husband, and had taken the car. She was in no position to drive.

The traffic light turned green and she stayed where she was, dabbing her eyes. Gerard took a step towards her, feeling the need to ameliorate her mood. But she muttered a "Fuck off," before speeding down the road. Gerard backed away onto the sidewalk, his mind replaying the scene that just unrolled in front of him.

That woman there was surely angry, no doubt about it. So angry, in fact, that she threatened to run him over. And he was half tempted to agree, out if spite. But he didn't. He didn't want to say it out of spite and then have her actually go ahead and drive over him. Then he'd be dead with no way to contact Mikey, and completely abandoning Frank.

With Frank back in his mind, Gerard quickly entered the motel, task fresh in mind. He had to talk Frank down and apologize so they could head off to visit Mikes already. He didn't want to miss the bus. So far, there were three buses scheduled to go by Mike's place today, and they'd already missed the first one. The second one was about an hour away. And the third one would be sometime in the evening, which was already crossed out, because they should have reached Mikey by the evening.

Gerard opened the door and his eyes met with Dan's. Dan gave Gerard a weary look and Gerard responded with a worn smile. He could hear Dan let out a sigh at his expression, but he shrugged it off. Dan had probably seen Frank burst in here really upset, and here Gerard was, smiling.

"Um, Frank's up there, right?" Gerard asked aloud, testing to see whether the man would speak to him. "We, uh…had a little misunderstanding…" He lightly waved his arm and continued heading upstairs, already dismissing Dan's usual and non-existent answer.

"Are you sure?" Dan asked, and Gerard blinked twice from surprise.

Dan had actually spoken to him? He turned around and stared at Dan, silently urging Dan to speak again. Maybe he'd heard something from his mind…

"Frank seemed pretty…upset," he continued, looking straight at Gerard.

"We just kinda thought that one person said something else, and everything got kinda screwed up, you know?" Gerard replied, going down a step. He could hear Frank's footsteps in their room.

"You aren't leaving, are you?" Dan questioned.

"No," Gerard lied. "At least…not yet," he soon admitted. "Depends on how long Frank will keep this up, I guess. We were planning on visiting my brother today, but I can't send us if Frank's in a foul mood."

"So you aren't leaving permanently, right?" Dan continued, and Gerard shook his head. But he made sure to give Dan a questioning look. Dan registered the confused expression and explained.

"You guys are, like, the Motel's steady income," he told Gerard. "Almost three months. We've never had something like that before. And if you guys end up going because of a little argument…I'm sure you guys can fix up whatever's between you two…"

Gerard couldn't help but chuckle at Dan's personal attempt to get them to stay, although it did make sense as to why a guy like him was actually talking to Gerard. Once Dan's job was concerned, then and only then would he speak to you and intervene. "We aren't supposed to leave for sure yet," Gerard replied, shrugging. "It's just…something both Frank and I have to agree on. If one of us wants to go and the other doesn't, then we won't go."

"There you go," Dan said, even cracking a smile. God, this guy was full of surprises when it came to saving his ass. Regardless, Gerard bore on and just smiled. This was Dan who was talking to him, which meant the conversation itself would soon be over. "You guys are a nice couple, I would guess. I haven't seen many gay couples, but out of all the ones I've seen, you guys are pretty good. It'd be sad if this little argument broke you two."

Yeah, it would, Gerard agreed silently. Dan had a point there. He subtly looked up, gesturing that he was about to leave when Dan spoke again. "Gerard?"

He froze upon hearing his name from Dan's mouth. It was a bit strange, and he stayed behind to make sure he hadn't just imagined it all. He was sure he hadn't when he saw Dan suddenly blush and avoid eye contact with him. "Yeah?" Gerard quietly and politely prodded.

"That…that wasn't the only reason I wanted you and Frank to stay," he admitted, finally reaching Gerard's eyes. Gerard raised a brow in surprise. Why else, then, would Dan care? Maybe he knew something about the two of them, and he'd called the cops! Oh, god, he and Frank were dead now…

"Really?" Gerard asked, trying to keep the fear from his voice. Apparently, it worked.

"Yeah," Dan admitted. Gerard kept silent to edge him on. "Not only are you two the only solid life support of this Motel, but I kinda like having you two stay here. The both of you always keep your room clean, and you're always so polite to everyone…even though I must admit you two are kinda odd…but I like that. It keeps me alive down here, staring at a closed door day after day. And Frank is extremely lively, and…I know I don't talk to you guys—I don't talk to anyone—but I would hate it if you guys left and I never said anything. So there," Dan said, staring bravely at Gerard as he overcame his nervousness. "You two can go if you want, but I just wanted to get that out there, and I have, so…"

"Well, thanks Dan," he replied to the comment. It had obviously been pretty hard for him to utter everything, and he respected that. Plus it was pretty nice for Dan to say those things, regardless. In fact, Dan wasn't such a statue after all. "Well, I don't know if anything will happen yet, but I'll be sure to tell you."

"No problem," Dan said, returning back to his deskwork and the pile of papers in front of him. "If not, I'll just hear it from up there," he replied, pointing upstairs.

"Wait," Gerard insisted, a smile tugging at his lips. "Are you telling me that-?''

"Your room is right above this one, yes," Dan affirmed, a smile tugging at his own. "And so far it's been pretty quiet…" Gerard smiled and the man's sense of humor sunk in, and he couldn't help but grin to himself.

"Keep it that way," Dan tried to joke, and to his relief Gerard giggled, which meant he found it funny and he wasn't offended.

"I can't guarantee," Gerard joked, heading up the stairs and waving 'good-bye'. Dan gave him a genuine smile before putting all his attention into the pile of papers once more. Instead of a frown upon his face, there was a smile. And he never thought he'd be happy to talk to the odd couple, but he was. He was a bit empathetic towards them and their fights that they had, and he hadn't really wanted them to leave because of that.

He had not been 100% right when he said that their room had been quiet. He'd heard their conversations before as they headed outside and went along their day. Gerard seemed to be the one that was satisfied, and Frank wasn't satisfied…with whatever the thing was. Frank seemed to always be looking for something, whereas Gerard was just happy to be with Frank. Maybe Frank was tired of Gerard, he figured, marking a paper.

Before he knew it a frown was on his face again.

_It was just an argument,_ he reminded himself. _They're fine, and Gerard and Frank are fine, and they're gonna stay and pay, and you'll get more chances to talk to them,_ he reasoned with himself. A small smile came on his face as he thought of all the weird short conversations he'd had with Frank, the most recent one explaining the bloodstained tissue as 'Gerard's accidental period'. Yes, he was sure that if they two of them departed, he life would become drab and dull again. Maybe his life was meant to be that way, but he didn't like it. And now that some interesting people have literally stepped onto his doorstep and into his house, he didn't want to drive them away.

* * *

"…and just call me back, Frank, okay? I love you…"

Mrs. Iero shut the phone as she heard footsteps approach the door. She knew it had not been the smartest of ideas to call Frank now, in broad daylight, but it was the only time she could think of. It had been a spontaneous act to call her son. She knew that there were a few times when she had not seen Frank for days, but even then she had seen glimpses of him in the house. Now he was nowhere, over in Pete's house and far away from her.

The door opened and her husband entered. Mrs. Iero muttered a curse as he sat by her, and he raised a brow. He was surprised to have come in and caught his wife distraught. "What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing her shoulders.

"I'm just…I miss Frank a bit," she admitted.

Her husband shrugged it off. "He's with Pete, and I'm sure he's taking good care of him."

"Yeah, but—''

"We never see the kid anyway, but he's always fine."

"But at least we see glimpses of him in the halls, or we can hear him talking, and…"

"Don't worry," Mr. Iero told his wife. "The moment anything happens, Pete will tell us. Like he did about the baby-sitter." Mrs. Iero sighed, deciding to let her husband win this battle. She knew she felt something was off about her son's absence, and she wouldn't be convinced otherwise until she saw him herself.

"Don't let this eat at you, honey," he continued, rubbing her shoulder once more.

"It's just…things aren't always so tight between Frank and Peter like we'd like to think," she voiced. "Even with that baby-sitter thing, Pete had said Frank hadn't want to come to him."

"So they had a fall-out," her husband interrupted once more. "What's the big deal?"

"Our son is changing," she said, gripping her cell. She was beginning to regret her choice of creating this business. She had never thought things would get this out of hand, with her son skipping school. "They might have had a fall out. Okay. I'll give you that. But if the fall out was so bad Frank was willing to keep the rape a secret, maybe it was more than a fall out," she reasoned. "Didn't you ever think of that?"

Mr. Iero chuckled and shrugged the notion away. "Pete is Frank's friend, honey. He has been for years now. Almost like a big brother. And then the stupid baby sitter we hired messed with Frank's mind a bit. That's over with now."

"No, it isn't," Mrs. Iero insisted. "Frank has been acting weird ever since then. It isn't over, or else he would've been home with us, and not skipping school for a month and over...Nearly two."

"You worry too much," Mr. Iero said, smiling. "Frank will be fine. He's always fine. Pete will talk to him like he always does, and Frank will be back to his old self."

"Our quiet pessimistic little Frank?"

"Exactly."

"What about the hyper and super adorable little Frank?"

"And since when has Frank been hyper or adorable for that manner?" Mr. Iero snorted. "Not since he was–"

"A kid," Mrs. Iero said. "That's the problem. There was a point in time when Frank would cry in front of us. He won't anymore."

"He's seventeen, almost eighteen in a couple days."

"But when was the last time you saw him cry?" she demanded.

"That day we got rid of Gerard."

"And prior to that?"

"A while ago...after that toy truck incident."

"Yeah," Mrs. Iero agreed. "The toy truck incident that happened on his seventh birthday. Babe, we should have seen something was up when he got upset and cried in front of us over Gerard."

"So are you telling me you want to rehire him?"

"Hell no," she replied. "But it just shows that our Frank is in there somewhere. He's just showing himself to the wrong person, though. Gerard abused him. He needs to know that we're here for that." Mr. Iero sighed and shook his head, completely uninterested. So what if Frank hadn't cried for a few years? He was growing up, becoming a man.

"So, what does that mean?" he asked. "I haven't cried since high school, when my father died. Is there something wrong with me too?"

"You cried when Frank was born," she reminded her husband. "And I know you cried when we found out about Gerard."

"Point being?" he demanded.

"Frank is still our son," Mrs. Iero stressed. "And the last time he legit cried was when Gerard was fired. I don't like to count that one, but if I didn't, then it'd be correct to say he hasn't cried in front of our eyes in ten years. Starting from age seven? You didn't even do that. How can we be treating our son that way?"

"I'm not getting your point," Mr. Iero snapped angrily. "You want Gerard back, or what?"

"No! You're not listening to me!" she snapped back. "Something is wrong with us if our son chooses to run to a man he's barely known for a week and cry for him. Without a doubt, I'm sure he wouldn't have cried for us had something happened to us. That's scary. He's completely turned his feeling off towards us. And for some reason, he's doing the same with Pete."

"He and Pete are fine, and he's fine, so stop worrying," Mr. Iero demanded.

"I call Pete's house and no one answers."

"I'm sure Pete has a life and lives outside his house at times," Mr. Iero replied smoothly. "You're the one who decided we should send Frank over there in the first place."

"I changed my mind, obviously," Mrs. Iero snapped. "Frank...why isn't he answering then? Why hasn't Pete come to us with updates on how Frank is doing? Things Frank has said, or what he feels?"

"Pete's Frank's friend," he chuckled, getting up from his chair. "He's not Frank's mother or boyfriend. Number one, you're the mother the last time I checked, and number two, Frank isn't gay."

"Not gay?"

"Not gay," Mr. Iero repeated, loosening his tie.

"He was raped by Gerard and you don't think he's gay? Or at least bi?"

"Never," he replied with such solidity. "Our son isn't—''

"We messed up before," Mrs. Iero said. "We messed up with his childhood. Apparently, he's started living like an adult a long while ago. But don't do this. Not when it comes to his sexuality."

"Just because he's been molested doesn't mean he's gay."

"He enjoyed it. You can't deny that. Why else would he cry for us cutting the ropes on Gerard?"

"I don't know! Maybe he thought Gerard would stay friends with him or something! I really don't think he's gay..."

"Not even the slightest possibility?" she questioned. Mr. Iero shook his head. "You claim Pete's a good friend because he tells you everything, right?" This time, he nodded. "Well, has he ever come to you talking about a girl Frank has liked?"

Mr. Iero was stuck there. Now that he thought about it, Pete never mentioned anything about a relationship Frank had. He had to admit that was a bit weird. He knew for sure that when he was Frank's age, there were definitely things going on. But he had to give Pete the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Frank was getting into deeper things than his wife assumed. Even though this was his son he was talking about, he was a teenager after all, with raging hormones. Who's to say Frank didn't partake instead in org—

"Do you remember the day that Frank came to us? The day Gerard first came to check this place around?" she asked her husband, getting up as well. "He said he had something to tell us, but we sent him off to clean because Gerard was coming."

"Right," Mr. Iero agreed, nodding his head faintly. "But there were lots of instances..."

"Think of that day specifically," she urged him. "Remember we finally had a couple of minutes free and he tried to speak to us? Do you remember what he said?"

"No, because I told him to go clean his room," he calmly answered. His wife shook her head.

"If I'm not mistaken," she said, "I think you yelled at him, 'Go out and do something with your life! Maybe then I'd give a damn about something you have to say!'"

"So what if I did?"

"He had something to tell us, and you just pushed him away. It's no wonder he went and sought solace with the older man who he felt 'understood' him. We fed him to the sharks!"

"Still doesn't prove he's gay."

"It proves, though, that the only means of affection that he's had was with another man, Gerard, and he seems to be fine with that. Perfectly fine with Gerard's affection. Which means he's gay."

"Look," he said, taking a deep breath. "Frank is fine. Frank will answer the phone when he feels like it. Okay? Pete will deal with him when he has to. Right now, Pete's the only one who knows Frank's mind inside out. And I'm sure that if it's more tears you want, I'm capable of doing that to him."

"It's not more tears that I'm looking for," his wife sadly stated. "He cries. It's the fact that he can hide it from us so well. Hide his emotions like that from us. His parents...I see the tears on his pillow at night, when I'm occasionally able to sneak in. He cries, more than any boy should his age. If he can hide his emotion, something so natural as tears and his sadness from us, imagine what else he'll hide from us?"

"Like the babysitter," he responded, annoyed at his wife's circle of thinking. She wasn't getting anywhere with this in his eyes. "Which is why Pete came out and told us."

"What about if he had no one to come out and rat on him?" Frank's mother wondered, her mind connecting a few speculating ideas and rumors. "What if there's a secret about Pete he's never told anyone?"

"Pete wouldn't do anything to him."

"That's what I thought about Gerard, but I was proved wrong."

"Pete...Frank surely would have said something—''

"If he did, we probably shut him up before he got to say anything, like that day I told you to remember. He never got to say what he'd wanted to say, did he?"

"I think telling me I'm a 'blind damn idiot' is something he got to say," Mr. Iero replied, still a bit angry.

"You and I both know he didn't come all that way just to call you that," she responded. "Had we just let him talk, we would have found something out."

"Pete and Frank have been fucking, right? Is that what you want to hear?"

"Hush! Don't call it that!"

"No, I _will _call it that, because that's what damn faggots do. They fuck. And you are implying that Frank is gay. To do so also implies that Pete is gay, or bi, or whatever you want to call it. So you want to imagine that they fuck? Does that make you better?"

"No! I'm just saying—''

"Leave things alone. Pete is a good guy, and Frank's just an idiot of a son. Frank's not gay. He's just confused. And Pete will fix him."

"Fix him? Being gay is nothing to be 'fixed' about, so Pete has no work to do. It's us that have to fix how we treat our son. We have to fix our relationship with him. And to do so, we need him back home. I don't care what it takes, but I want you to know, and I want Frank to know that I will listen to him. I'm going to stop work for the next couple of days, weeks even, to talk to our son, and figure out what goes on in that head of his."

"What's happened to make you so suspicious of Pete all of a sudden?" Mr. Iero asked.

"I'm just..."

"Why do you seem like you've suddenly 'found the light' and Pete's evil? I'm not catching your drift."

"I'm just...with Frank's absence and no new news on our son, and just thinking everything over about how all this started in the first place...Things just aren't adding up all the way," his wife explained, obviously distraught. Mr. Iero sighed, bringing an arm to encompass his wife.

"If it makes you happy, I'll ask Pete to drop Frank by today, okay?" he said, trying to get his wife to worry a bit less. "How's that sound?" Mrs. Iero simply nodded, gripping her cell phone. She hoped that when she saw Frank, he'd at least speak to her. She didn't care if he yelled at her and called her names...she'd accept anything by this point. It was a funny thing to realize just how important something or someone is once they were gone. All this time, Frank lurked behind the shadows of their home. But now that he was gone completely, stuck in another man's house, here she was freaking out over it. Maybe it was just her. Her husband was pretty chill with it so far...

"So you'll ask Pete today?" she questioned, and her husband nodded as he hugged his wife.

"I'll talk to him, okay? You've got nothing to worry about," he assured her. "You'll see Frank by tonight."

On the other side of the closed door, Tina frantically made her way back to her desk after hearing the Ieros (the missus) speculate about Pete. She honestly didn't mind about the fact that someone seemed to be catching on to Pete, but by this point in the game, she was in just as much trouble as Pete was. If he was caught, so was she. She had to get Pete to come up with one of his 'plans' quickly, to save both of their asses. He'd said he was going out, but he never mentioned where. She hadn't thought much of that, though. Pete could do whatever the hell he wanted, as long as his absence let the Ieros believe he actually had a job (besides the pimping), she was fine.

Only when she was sure no one was around her desk area, and after leading a few lost visitors in the home to the Iero meeting room, she sat down at her desk and dialed Pete's number.

How on earth was Pete going to pull out of this one?

* * *

"Petey?"

"What?" Pete grumpily asked intot the phone as Sara rubbed his shoulders for him. He was definitely going to have to replace Tina with her. He gave a relaxing sigh and rolled his head as Tina's voice squeaked through the phone's speakers.

"They want Frank back, babe."

"They what?" Pete asked, annoyed at the idea. Tina gave a frustrated sigh of her own. It wasn't like she was making this up to be annoying. The Ieros wanted their kid back. What was hard to understand about that?

"Frank. They want to hold him...well, Mrs. Iero wants to hold him."

"And Mr. Iero?" Pete cautiously asked. He tensed up and Sara murmured for him to relax, kissing his shoulder. He took another breath, some blood rushing back to his head now.

"Mr. Iero's fine, but his wife misses Frank."

"She never sees the twerp!"

"Petey, baby," Sara lightly chided him. "Relax," she demanded, kissing his neck. The two of them had just had a great time together, and she didn't want it ruined because of that ex he had. Pete hadn't told her much, but she knew that his ex girlfriend was someone who was completely unreliable and getting on his last nerve. In fact, he was tempted, Pete admitted to her, to bringing Sara with him to replace her position in the office she was in. Sara wasn't sure what the job entailed, but she was sure it beat being the cashier from that run down store. Just imagine, working in a real office...

Pete gave a light chuckle and Sara giggled in response, happy that he was starting to listen to her. She could tell when Pete slightly lowered the level of the cell phone from his ear and gave a moan. That's where she wanted things to head. She wanted to enjoy herself again and set that office-job deal in stone.

There was a brake in Tina's heartbeat on the other end, however, when she heard another voice besides Pete's giggling and calling _her _Pete as 'Petey'. Venom raked through Tina's voice as she thought up of the unimaginable. Well, it wasn't really unimaginable, seeing that Pete was Pete. But the fact that he chose _now _of all times to cheat on her was gut-wrenching. After all the shit she agreed with and did for him?

"Where are you?" Tina quietly asked, no longer interested in the dilemma back at home. Pete ignored her.

"So...you say they want to see Frank, eh?" he asked aloud, closing his eyes as he felt Sara's lips on his neck. She moaned as she lightly nibbled on his skin.

"Who's with you?" Tina demanded again, her voice rising a bit. "You're not alone, are you?"

"No one," Pete insisted, before covering the receiver of the phone to kiss Sara without having the risk of Tina hearing them.

"They want you," Tina lied, her voice definite.

"Work." Pete gave her a one-word reply, hoping he could shut the phone off and have some alone time with Sara. But he gave an aggravated grumble when Tina responded.

"Now," she snapped. "Mrs. Iero wants her son and she wants him now. Come down from wherever the hell you are. Get off from on top of that girl you're with, and save your ass with the Iero's. I'm done with you."

With that, Tina hung up, leaving Pete alone with a confused Sara. She kissed his chin, murmuring, "What's wrong? You have to leave?"

Pete shrugged it off. In fact, he shrugged off Tina's whole call. He believed that if something really were wrong, Mr. Iero'd call. He always did. The fact that Mr. Iero hadn't called ameliorated him a bit, and he started to believe that Tina's call was just to find out where the hell he was. He wasn't going back so soon. Not when he had a job to take care of here.

Tossing the phone on a nearby nightstand, Pete smiled at Sara as he cradled her. She blew him a kiss on the nose and asked, "Going back to your ex?"

"Nope," Pete answered, smiling. A huge grin immediately took hold of Sara's face. "I have way more important matters right here."

* * *

Frank sat on his bed as he heard footsteps nearing the door. It was, no doubt, Gerard about to enter the room.

He didn't want to see Gerard right now. He didn't want to see Gerard and then regret the words that spilled from his mouth, admitting that he was just scared, and wasn't thinking straight. He had no right to be scared. He had to say those things and get Gerard to see things his way. Gerard didn't understand just how deep things could be. The longer they stayed away, the worse and slimmer his chances became. Pete's story could only hold up for so long.

The doorknob clicked open and Gerard entered the room, sure to avoid eye contact with him. Though Gerard's message was bittersweet to Frank, he was happy to at least know that some words possibly got through his boyfriend's head. At least now, Gerard refused to speak to him. Now all he had to do was to disgust Gerard enough to send him back to that house.

Frank kept waiting for the opportune moment to utter something, but the air between them didn't seem fit. If he wasn't mistaken, he could almost hint Gerard's annoyance at him for doing and saying what he did. It seemed like his job was half done.

Gerard started packing their belongings and Frank's heart fell. He hated himself right now. He was so vacillated. One second, he had this gut feeling to follow through with one plan, and the next, he was doubted whether or not it should have been done. And it always happened whenever he'd thought too deeply about the subject at hand. The last time he did that was when he was deciding whether or not to let Pete take his virginity. It happened, and he ended up regretting it.

He wanted to drive Gerard away, and now he was immensely regretting it as well. He still agreed on the fact that his reasons for driving Gerard away were valid, but when it came to the point of their happiness, it was something that crippled them both. He should have felt happy that he was helping Gerard get his life back on track, but instead he felt miserable that his plan seemed to be working, in the least. Gerard was pissed at him, and he seemed to be packing up their belongings. He was probably sending him back to that house, now.

Gerard stayed quiet, unsure of how his unsteady boyfriend would react if he did attempt to speak to him. He kept it at subtle gestures and glimpses at him, and he could see that Frank was still a bit distraught. He believed that the best thing to do was to keep quiet, and hope the conflict would go away and disappear, like that first argument he had with Frank about running away did. Back when Frank threatened to actually go back, and Gerard demanded Frank keep his ass on the damn bus that was sending them to the middle of nowhere. And now here they were, in Room 16, with a home.

He reflected on the words Dan had said to him, and he decided Dan was right. Although he'd only spoken with the man for a few minutes, he agreed with the man that this argument should not break up something the two of them finally built together, which was a place to call home. Couples argue all the time. One argument shouldn't break a couple apart, especially with stakes as high as this.

And Gerard knew Frank hadn't truly meant any of the words he'd said. If he had, Frank would have abandoned him months ago, returning to his mother and father. But he hadn't, which meant that he wanted this just as much as Gerard had, if not more. He was just a bit worried about Gerard's future. But what Gerard wanted to etch into Frank's mind was the fact that this was not an illusion, and that Gerard was in it all the way, and was willing to go all the way—no matter how far—to have Frank be his. Maybe, for some odd reason, Frank felt like Gerard hadn't truly loved him back. But that was false. Although Gerard hadn't mentioned it yet aloud to Frank, he loved him with all his heart. The only thing that stopped Gerard from telling Frank earlier was because this trip to Mikey's was still planned. Had he told Frank that he loved him, he was sure Frank would find a way to persuade him to not visit Mikey and to continue their elopement, far from any family to risk not getting caught. His mind would have been clouded by then, and he could imagine himself agreeing wholeheartedly...sorry Mikes.

As Gerard continued packing his clothing, he realized that the rent for the room would be due tomorrow. Seeing as he didn't plan on being here by tomorrow, he decided now would be the perfect time to check up on the payment status since Frank was mad at him still. It'd give him something to do at least, without having to deal with the awkward atmosphere surrounding the two of them.

Turning around at a troubled looking teenager, Gerard quietly sucked in his breath. Frank looked so depressed. It bothered him a lot, and he wanted no more than to embrace Frank and kiss away his doubtful thoughts. He stepped forward before stepping back by the door again before he told Frank, "I'll be downstairs for a couple minutes, okay?" He waited a second for Frank's response—anything at all to show Frank was willing to talk to him—before shutting the door behind him, exiting into the hallway with Frank current 'progress' affirmed.

Once the door shut, Frank mentally slapped himself and he violently tugged at his hair for epically messing up, based on one of his stupid gut-notions. He was tempted to answer back to Gerard, but he had waited a second too soon and the door was now shut, with Gerard on the opposite side. What was Gerard going down for? Was it because he was so pissed at him that he couldn't even stand to be in the same room? He hadn't even spoken to him, or made any glimpses in his direction.

_Well, what did you expect?_ he logically asked himself. _You told him to be like that, and he's just listening to what you said. _

With evidence like that, Frank couldn't argue. It looked like he was going home after all. There Gerard was, packing their clothing. And he doubted Gerard was packing for Mikey's little trip, because it seemed so unrealistic right now. That would mean Gerard wasn't as mad as he thought, and that he figured this squabble would be over before they met up with Mikey. Of course, had Frank been a bit more optimistic, he would have seen things from this view. But from the pessimistic teachings of his life experiences, it seemed a lot more realistic, unfortunately, that Gerard had thrown in the towel and given up. Frank didn't blame him. Here Gerard was, risking his life for some kid, and all the kid can talk about is going home, because it isn't worth it. Gerard might as well, right?

Frank quietly shifted in the bed and opened the drawer to the nightstand to find his phone, lying besides Gerard's. During times like this, he would call for Gerard. But now, he had no one to call, and holding the phone was more of a comfort at the idea and symbolism of the phone. As his fingers wrapped around the electronic device, he instantly remembered opening Gerard's text message inbox and seeing all the texts he received from his 'boss.' Suddenly, Gerard's story replayed in his mind, and he remembered how Gerard had explained briefly that his friend 'Pete from work' sent him the texts, referring to his job. A mind-blowing, yet obvious, possibility echoed throughout Frank's brain as the pool of doubt got deeper and deeper.

What if Gerard's boss was that 'Pete friend' from work? Gerard had never fully come out and said that the Pete guy was his boss, but it had appeared so on his phone. That would also go on to explain what Gerard meant by 'friend' as well!

Frank shakily held his cell phone as he made the connection between the person that Gerard played off as two separate people. Pete was, in reality, Gerard's boss, who was also his 'friend' in other terms.

How could he be so stupid to have skimmed over that fact, the possibility? He felt like a dumb ass. He was blinded by his feelings for Gerard that he had skimmed the possibility over, thinking that it was an innocent relationship. No wonder Gerard never wanted to take it further. Sweetheart that he was, although he was on the 'run' he was still faithful to his true lover.

What about the way he kisses you—

"Like I said, just taking advantage of what he has," Frank murmured aloud to himself. "Who wouldn't?" he glumly added in Gerard's defense, diminishing his self-value. "With the way I was throwing myself at him..."

Completely submerged in the doubt now and with his eyes and mind too clouded to think properly, Frank turned on his phone to see that he had several messages on his phone, all of which he refused to listen to prior to today. But at this moment, he decided he should listen in. He was sure most, maybe all, of the messages he'd received belonged to Pete. But as he listened to his messages, the most recent one played first, he was shocked to hear his mother's voice ring from the speakers. At least, it sounded like his mother. He wasn't that sure...

_"Hey, Frank, honey. It's your mother...I...h-how's Pete's place been, huh...? I, um...the place is really vacant without you, and...Pete says you're progressing, but I want you back home. It's weird. I know I barely see you, but just knowing that you're off at Pete's house bothers me, and I'd rather have you home, okay?_

_ Come home. Tell Pete you feel better. And whatever's going on between the two of you—fix it. Your father believes Pete's a good guy. I used to think the same, too. But ever since Gerard, I don't know what to think anymore._

_ I've been calling you for some time now, honey. Your father is worried, too. And so's Tina. Every time we mention your name she gets nervous. I know you still resent her and Pete for blabbing out on what Gerard did to you, but when it comes to that, I'm on Pete's side. That man's no good for you. Do you even know about his background? Past boyfriends? Leave the man alone. I'm sure he's already moved on with some other under-aged kid. Dumb pervert. If it makes you any happier, we can sue him, or have him arrested for you. He took advantage of you, Frank._

_ Well...get things ready. Pete should be dropping you off soon. And...and just call me back, Frank, okay? I love you..."_

Looked like he was already scheduled to arrive with Pete, Frank bitterly noted, dimissing the rest of the message. The message hadn't been left so long ago, more like a couple minutes prior to discovering it. He had walked ahead of Gerard, hadn't he? Maybe he'd gotten Gerard so angry that Gerard had contacted Pete somehow...how Gerard might've contacted Pete was a wonder to him, but—

The more Frank thought about it, the more his heart banged against his chest. Gerard could have very well contacted Pete. He did, after all, carry Pete's number. Frank figured that bit out when he tried to override the numbers in his own phone. But that number had correlated to Gerard's boss, which Frank just figured out a few moments ago to be a 'Pete.' A special 'friend' Pete. But now, he wasn't just anyone. He was the Pete.

Frank's heart pumped wildly against his chest that it hurt, and it was hard for him to breathe. Gerard was in on it all along, stringing him by the legs, working for his boss, his 'friend', Pete. Boy, did he ever feel like a stupid shit head now. Pete was pulling the strings the whole time. Probably since the day Gerard was fired. Maybe this was all some stupid lesson for Frank, to learn that no matter what, all strings tied back to Pete and he was forever bound to him. For years, Pete tried to encourage Frank to mark himself in remembrance of Pete, but all those times Frank refused, refraining from doing so. Once Gerard came along, he gave himself piercings, and was even thinking on getting some more tattoos. But now, those piercings he got for Gerard meant that they were for Pete, because Gerard was just a pawn in Pete's game. Pete was probably paying Gerard large sums of money already, which was why Gerard didn't want any money from him.

The game was over. Frank realized that no matter where he went, Pete was sure to follow. He would never escape from him. If Pete could get people like Gerard to work for him, then Frank gave up. Gerard was probably downstairs right now, calling Pete and alerting him that they'd be back within a few moments. Maybe that's what this whole 'let's go visit Mikey' thing was about.

Feeling the fool, Frank numbly got up and started packing clothes of his own for the trip back to Newark, choking up on tears. Pete was the one constant thing in his life, and (as he had proven so many times) would remain so, forever and ever, Amen.

He didn't need to listen to the rest of his messages. There was no point when he'd be meeting them soon anyway, trapped within his cell once more at home.


	39. If You Do It The Right Way

**...If You Do It The Right Way**

Pete chuckled to himself as he drove down the street to the Iero household. The last couple of hours had been somewhat rewarding…thanks to Sara.

But the rest of the day was going to be complete and utter hell if he didn't think of something to tell the Ieros about their son. What had Tina said to him? He couldn't even remember what she'd said. But the main point was that Mrs. Iero now knew or had a feeling her son was missing. What if she asked to see him? How on Earth would he make that happen?

Maybe he should come out and say something about Frank leaving…maybe he'd say that. "Frank was tired of everyone bothering him, and interfering with his life," the usual teenage bullshit. Mr. Iero'd buy that, wouldn't he? Say that Frank ran away…then nothing would be his fault.

Then gain, Mrs. Iero was the one that was skeptical of it all…she'd probably bring up the fact it was his fault. He was the one supposed to watch over Frank, wasn't he?

Then again, what if he said that Frank was kidnapped? That would be far from his control. Or maybe that Frank ran away...In fact, he'd probably throw in Mikey's death to help out his story…Maybe he'd go on to say Gerard stole Frank, and killed his brother who tried to stop him. Yeah…that would work. Mrs. Iero already thought he was some sort of horrible monster…plus, he hadn't heard anything about Mikey's death yet, so he figured no one found out about the poor soul.

Yes, he'd do that. Bring up Mikey, and make Gerard seem like a complete and utter shithead. Perfect. Maybe he'd barge in there, make it seem like he just found out. That would show Mrs. Iero. If he was such a cold-hearted guy, why'd he go out of his way to ensure Frank's safety or at least make sure that he might've been alright? He could even bring Frank up himself, and ask if he'd come here, etc.

Pete began to hum a tune as he parked into the driveway of the Iero household, calm, cool, and collected. This was how things had to be. He'd win them over, as usual. And he'd make sure to play over to Mrs. Iero as well, since she was the one who was having second thoughts…

Yup, this was all under control...

* * *

Tina stared at the clock on the wall, waiting for Pete's trifling ass to come home. It'd been hours since she last called him and warned him about Mrs. Iero's new-found suspicion. Of course, he wasn't listening.

She drummed her fingers along the desk and waited impatiently for him to arrive with a good enough story to save both of their behinds. The Ieros were already uneasy about her, so she knew that if Pete didn't come up with good enough excuse or reason for Frank's absence, she was doomed.

It was funny how she was still depending on him, even after hearing some damning evidence that threatened his commitment to her. It wasn't the first time for her, though. He'd done it many times before, before Frank came into the picture. But sleeping with some woman now? Especially during this troubling time, when lives were at stake, and she was risking hers for him? Now was the time for him to show her complete dedication.

Apparently, he didn't think so.

Three minutes later, Pete arrived, throwing his keys into the bowl before heading upstairs in a huge rush. He whizzed past Tina and she gave a disappointed sigh. He smelled like perfume. Yeah, it was true he put on perfume, but it wasn't hers or the one he usually wore. She, unfortunately for her, had suspected right.

"Pete?" Tina called after him, running up the stairs as well. "Pete!"

He ignored her, banging on doors in the house, looking for the Ieros. He'd thought about what he was going to do, and now was time to put his plan into action.

"Pete, don't go in that door!" Tina tried warning him, for both their sakes. There was a meeting going on for them at the moment. After their little discussion, Mr. Iero had decided to go on with his plans, no matter how distraught his wife seemed. She was strictly ordered not to let anyone in, and now Mrs. Iero was suspicious and demanded to see Frank by tonight. How the hell was that going to happen?

As usual, Pete ignored her and headed straight for the door, barging in the meeting the Ieros were holding. She closed her eyes and swore to herself before entering the room as well. But the scene was unlike anything she expected, especially due to the accusations that flew around prior to his appearance.

When Tina entered the room, she was greeted by a chaotic scene of business men and women running about everywhere in frenzy. Papers were scattered all over the table and drinks were spilled. Mr. Iero was holding his wife firmly and she looked as if she might have passed out before, too weak to hold herself. Once her eyes locked with Mrs. Iero's, Mr. Iero opened his mouth to speak, his voice strained and hoarse.

"So how long has he been dead?"

"Um…I don't know," Pete admitted, apparently stumped. "I haven't gone there myself, actually…"

"But if Gerard killed his brother after stealing Frank, then it must mean that Mikey's just died, right?" Mrs. Iero asked. "That monster has just killed his brother! Where do they live? Maybe Gerard's not too far…do his parents know? Is it on the TV? Put on the damn television!" She yelled at one of her colleagues, twisting away from her husband. Mr. Iero kept his hold and pulled his wife back from storming all over Pete, demanding answers.

The woman brought up a very legit point. Pete had said anything before thinking ahead this time, and that got Tina worried. She couldn't afford to have Pete screw things up now. "Mikey's been dead for a while, now…"

"So are you telling me…are you telling me Frank's been 'gone for a while now' too?" Mrs. Iero demanded. "Are you just telling this to us now?"

"Pete got his story mixed up," Tina said, revising Pete's words from the top of her head. She wasn't so sure that was the way to go, since she had not heard Pete's words, but she had to give it a shot. "Mikey's been dead for a while…supposedly. The thing with Frank just happened today."

"'The thing with Frank'?" Mrs. Iero screeched. "That's my fucking son. It's not just a 'thing,' you coldhearted—"

"What I meant to say was that Frank was taken after Mikey's death," Tina quickly explained. By this point, bystanders had now called the police, eavesdropping on the conversation. The rest of them had run off. This was not, after all, your average discussion.

"Gerard called Pete a while off and threatened to take Frank, but we didn't think anything of it, because he'd made threats before. And I guess he really did kill Mikey, because now he stole Frank…"

"You were receiving threats and did nothing?" Mrs. Iero's eyes bulged as she turned to her husband. "Do you hear this?"

"It's apparent that Pete didn't consider it to be a real threat—"

"And look where it got us!" she interrupted him. "Our son is gone with a rapist and killer!"

"Mrs. Iero, please calm down," Pete said, gaining control of the situation once more. His eyes locked with Tina's briefly as a silent message of thanks passed between the two of them before he continued. "I just came home from work, and then I realized that Frank wasn't home. So I came here to check if he maybe went back. You have to believe that I never thought Gerard was capable of doing such a thing! But when I saw Frank wasn't at home, and he wasn't here, I reasonably figured that Gerard came into the picture."

"But what about Gerard's brother?" Mrs. Iero asked in disbelief. "You never thought to report that to anyone?"

"We didn't believe it," Pete said. "So when he called us up, we dismissed it…but now that Frank's gone few days before his birthday, I think he might've been telling the truth…which was why I came here as soon as I could!"

"Honestly, we would have tried to contact him, but they live in the other end of Newark…you know, down in the south? And they don't have a phone line…we've never met the guy before…there was nothing we could do to check if it was true…"

"And now that he's taken Frank, we fear it might be true," Pete finished. "I'm completely sorry…"

Mrs. Iero held on to her husband, shooting him a glare before harshly whispering to her Tina and Pete, "I trusted you with Frank…And now he's gone…"

Tina knew Pete was tempted to say something along the lines of, "Since when have you been involved?" but he bit his tongue, instead muttering, "I'll call the police, hm?"

He began walking out the room and Tina followed him as Mrs. Iero became hysterical and incredulously asked, "You haven't called the police yet?"

Mr. Iero interrupted before Pete could respond and asked him, "How'd it happen? Frank could have easily fought him away..."

"Frank's small, sir," Pete quietly responded. "And I'm sure he and Gerard were probably communicating with each other..." Mr. Iero gave a defeated sigh, rubbing his wife's shoulder.

"There's no way we can blame him," he told his wife. "Frank willingly left, too." Pete threw Mr. Iero an appreciative smile as he exited the room, waving his cell.

"I'll go make that call now," he briefly explained.

The doors closed before Mrs. Iero could scream some more at them, and Pete lightly patted Tina on the arm. Their eyes locked for the second time that day and Pete gave Tina a subtle nod before heading down the stairs.

"What was that about?" Tina asked him, demanding an answer. "You froze up in there."

"Sorry, okay? I didn't get to think about it all the way—''

"You're letting it get to your head, acting cool and whatnot when you really have no idea what the hell you're gonna do! Mikey's dead…"

"I said 'sorry'—''

"…and that head of yours thinks you're so invincible, sleeping around with what's-her-face! She wasn't there to save you ass just now, was she?" she hissed, coming down the stairs after Pete. Pete stayed down at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Tina to continue her rant. "Why do you do that to me, huh? And now, of all times, you chose to go out and do that…I've never cheated on you. I stick with you through thick and thin. I put my life on the line in most cases, and you repay me with this? Come on, Pete! What are we gonna do now? Frank's out there with Gerard…"

"We are not gonna do anything," he replied, turning to face her. He completely ignored her rant about the cheating and continued. "I am gonna find a way out of this, okay?"

"You could barely cover your ass in there—''

"I said I'm fucking sorry, okay?" he snapped. He took in a few breaths before he continued. He was a bit nervous himself, and couldn't figure out why he'd screwed up. He was used to always being given the benefit of the doubt from the Ieros. To have Mrs. Iero glaring at him probably shook him up a bit. He couldn't let that happen again. "Just call the damn police so they find Mikey's body," he instructed, before leaving the house again.

Tina gave a frustrated sigh, opening her cell phone and doing exactly what he instructed. She had to. Whether she liked it or not, her complaining was futile. Pete was gonna do whatever the hell he wanted to. Her life depending on him. It was because of him that she had a roof over her head, and had a steady income...a very nice sum, too, for just answering a couple phone calls...

The two of them both knew that. And because of what he'd done, she'd grown to love him...He, on the other end, had not come around to that part yet, and there was nothing she could do to 'force' him. He was going to have to come around on his own...unfortunately...

She'd wait if she had to, she told herself a while ago. So, the only thing left to do was to keep waiting, she reminded herself as she dialed for the police.

A frustrated Tina waited impatiently as the Newark Police Department kept her on hold, a tear falling from her eyelashes. Maybe after this whole ordeal was over, Pete would come around. She could do it.

Just keep waiting...

* * *

Opening the door, Gerard saw his boyfriend silently watching the television, which had extremely low volume at the moment. He could instantly tell that things hadn't cooled down all the way yet. If things had, Frank would not look like a zombie staring blankly at a screen.

Closing the door, Gerard quietly proceeded to enter the room and Frank's eyes flickered over toward his boyfriend for a brief moment. He continued to make his way and took off his shoes, placing them in the closet. Rent hadn't been paid, he found out, which meant that Mikey was being a douche. Gerard gave a light chuckle, imagining the little plan his brother was probably scheming. Stop paying the rent and force them to leave and visit.

His brother was evil. Very loving, but evil.

After he disposed of his shoes, he sat on the bed next to Frank, whose eye focus remained primarily on the nearly silent screen. Gerard tried to break the silence by finding the remote to put the television off, but he couldn't. So instead, he went up to the center and manually put the television screen off. Frank found a new and interesting spot to stare at, and Gerard stayed by the television set, waiting for Frank to speak and say anything at all. Finally, Frank gave in and spoke first, but it wasn't anything Gerard had expected.

"I was watching that," he monotonously stated, reaching for the remote. Gerard responded by pulling out the plug to the television. He was going to have Frank talk to him by the end of the night. He was determined to have things end on a good note. Besides, the two of them had to. Thanks to his brother, tomorrow would be their last day here.

"So you're talking to me again?" Gerard taunted him, hoping they would go back to normal. He wasn't even sure what this argument was about. All he remembered at this point was that he said something that Frank misinterpreted, and here they were. If he couldn't remember it, then it definitely meant he meant none of it. It must not have been important.

"I guess so," Frank quietly responded, in a tone that Gerard deemed familiar. If he wasn't mistaken, Frankie was turning back into 'Frank.' That meant that nothing Frank said now was liable.

There was an awkward silence between the two of them and Gerard went to the refrigerator to get some water. He tried to get Frank to talk again when he asked him if he would like some water, but all Frank did was give a faint nod. Gerard remembered when Frank used to nod like that: moving enough to make a subtle gesture, but moving too little to be recognizable.

Dejectedly, Gerard handed Frank a glass of cool water and Frank accepted, mumbling a 'Thank you.' Gerard sighed as he stared at Frank take small and quiet sips, looking anywhere but at him. Gerard had to admit that Frank's silence was killing him. He was sorry he ever muttered those words. He knew Frank was a bit fragile. Even if he hadn't meant it, Frank hadn't been around him as much as his brother had. Frank didn't know him inside out yet.

If he had, they wouldn't be here.

"Frankie, why aren't you talking to me?" Gerard finally demanded, straightforward with his question.

"I'm talking," Frank said, taking another small sip as he ended his sentence. "I just said 'thank you.'"

"You know what I'm fucking talking about," Gerard snapped. "None of this 'polite' shit going on right now. I mean, I want us to have a conversation, not these...moments of awkwardness."

Frank took two sips. "There's nothing to talk about," he nonchalantly replied.

"Well, there's Halloween," Gerard said, trying to get Frank to smile. The blank expression that remained on his face made him extremely worried. He hadn't seen Frank act like this since they had been back in Newark. It was a sign of relapse.

"Halloween?" Frank asked, shrugging. "Nothing happens on Halloween. There's trick-or-treating. The end."

"But...but you seemed to be a much bigger fan," Gerard said. "I mean, I'm sure you don't get excited over Halloween for the trick-or-treating."

Frank took yet another small sip and apathetically shrugged, which hit Gerard's last nerve.

"Fuck it, Frank!" he angrily exploded, although the anger was both directed at Frank as well as himself. "What do you want from me? We had a stupid argument. I'm sorry, okay?"

"I am, too," Frank responded, although he had to admit Gerard's outburst startled him a bit. But it would take more than that to bring Frank down. Behind his stoic expression was a sincerely apologetic teen that loved his boyfriend very much and hated himself for making his partner sad. He was angry with himself for bringing this upon them, when it was completely avoidable. Yet every time he opened his mouth, it was a statement created to push Gerard away.

And it was the right thing to do. Gerard's statement wasn't just a slip of the tongue. It was a Freudian slip, which meant that somewhere within Gerard, he meant every word. Had it not been for Frank's old skills coming back into play, he'd be in the corner somewhere, crying his eyes out. Because that was the worst type of rejection he'd ever experienced. Pete, his parents, and friends had rejected him many times before, but he hadn't given them his all, nor had he cared for them like he had Gerard. It was painful to hear it come from Gerard, the one person whom he loved that the amount of love he had for him was in a league of its own.

It just proved that what he noted from Pete held true for everyone, and no one cared about him. No matter how much he loved someone else, that love would never be returned. He was just going to have to learn how to live with that. He should have kept his feelings and emotions at bay. No wonder Gerard used that 'age' excuse earlier (that, along with the fact that he wasn't Gerard's first love. Pete was).

Although, in the case of Gerard, it was an honor to even be considered as a second love. It was better than none, right? Gerard was actually being a bit too nice, risking his reputation and taking him that night when he could have easily just left him alone in the room. But he didn't, and he picked Frank up and carried him...

Frank's mind replayed that scene and it nearly brought tears to his eyes. He had to remember that Gerard was still in the same room as him, and crying wasn't allowed. Not yet.

Gerard could see it in Frank's eyes; he was being swallowed by his self-doubt and old ways. He had to pull him out before Frank sunk in too deep. "Frankie?" he called, in a softer voice than he had used before. Frank didn't respond right away, so he called out Frank's name again. Frank muttered a response and Gerard gave a questioning look, unsure of what he just heard.

"What?" he asked.

"I said it's Frank, not Frankie," he more boldly stated, looking Gerard in the eye. It was hard for him to keep the gaze, because the hurt on Gerard's face was overwhelming. But those thoughts crept back up and he was sure he was doing the right thing. Pete won. It was time for him to go back. He learned his lesson, and he wouldn't try to leave ever again...

Gerard felt as if he'd been slapped in the face, and Frank was tempted to apologize. But along with those hidden thoughts was the pain he received from looking at Gerard shocked and pained expression. It immobilized him, and all he could do was hold his glare at Gerard, angry mostly with himself.

Eventually, a tear made its way down Gerard's face and Frank took a sip of water, trying to shrug it off. It shouldn't have mattered to him if Gerard was crying. First off, Gerard cried over important things, like missing his brother or his past. Secondly, there was no way the tears were for him because he wasn't Gerard's first love, but at most his second, and there were a lot of other things that he knew could take his place before Gerard, like Mikey and his friends...

But what if Gerard was crying over him? He'd feel even worse than he did now, brushing him off like that. Gerard gave a sniffle and nodded at Frank, muttering an 'okay. Fine.' Before heading towards the door.

Frank's better half rose quickly and was about to chase after Gerard when Gerard turned around, obviously angry and annoyed. Frank called his name in an attempt to catch his attention, but Gerard cut him off. "Gerard," Frank said, stepping up. "Don't—''

"I don't understand you, Frank," Gerard angrily said, waving his arms. "Do you think I don't want you here? Do you?" Frank sat back on the bed and reached for the water again, letting the silence speak for itself. If the silence wouldn't, the huge tears threatening to fall from his eyes would.

"Keep in mind that my life is now completely screwed, babe," Gerard said, quickly wiping his eyes. His voice cracked but he tried to compose himself for Frank's sake. "I'm not saying that it wasn't already, Frank," he made sure to clarify. "But kidnapping someone is big. And rape is even worse." Frank nodded, all that he thought once more was verified by Gerard, who voiced himself aloud.

"This isn't even like it is on TV, when I would've been mean to you, or possibly even raped you already! I mean, I don't think I'm mean to you. I like you. A lot. More than a lot. I thought we were on the same page with that, but I guess not. Plus, I haven't killed you or anything yet. Think about it, because I know you're smart. If I truly didn't like you, you wouldn't be here right now."

Frank took a sip of water and remained silent. Gerard was regretting ever giving him that water now. In fact, he wanted Frank to choke on it, so he could come and save him, and all the doubts Frank had in that head of his would disappear. But that would never happen with the small sips Frank was taking. It annoyed him so much how Frank's brain worked sometimes. Nothing done for Frank could be out of love, or care. It always had to be because someone was waaaaay too nice, or because someone didn't understand the type of person he was.

Bullshit. Frank needed to start learning that Gerard's actions did not fall under that category. He loved him, and Frank need to recognize that through his actions. He hadn't wanted to say it out loud, in fear of confessing and then leading into intercourse because of those three words. Actions were supposed to speak louder than words, were they not?

"I've had it up to _here _Frank," Gerard continued, his thoughts swirling in his own head. Frank slightly jumped at the boom of his voice, and Gerard used it to his advantage. Frank needed blunt? Well, he'd give him 'blunt.' "I don't know what the _hell _else I'm supposed to do to show you or make you understand how I obviously feel about you. God, you can be so oblivious at times Frank. I _love _you! I fucking _love _you! Do you understand _that_?"

The air around them grew completely cold, and Frank took three long sips, avoiding Gerard's eye contact.

That, Frank felt, was a very cruel joke. Gerard should have known how he felt about him. To put it out there sarcastically made Frank feel stupid for ever loving him. The sad part was, though, that he probably wouldn't stop. He'd find some way to be okay with being Gerard's second or eighth love. There was no way Gerard had said that and meant it in the most literal of ways. He was angry now, and when he was angry, he was apparently 'sarcastic.' At least, that was his excuse for before, so it must hold now.

Gerard stood by the door, completely stumped and swept away. This was unbelievable. Either Frank didn't care that he loved him, or the message didn't sink in the way he'd hoped it to. Knowing Frank, Gerard expected the latter. More tears made their way down his face, and there was nothing he could do but wipe them away. Frank still sat on the bed, sipping that damn water.

"I've...I've got to go," Gerard choked out, shutting the door and slamming it as he exited the room. He couldn't believe that he had just admitted to Frank what he was trying to hold in, and Frank responded like that. Poor cupcake probably thought he was joking or some shit like that. But he wasn't. He loved that kid. He had thought speaking was the way to go with Frank, but apparently there were communication barriers that way.

He made his way down the stairs, holding in his sobs as he passed a surprised Dan. He was about to head outside when Dan called him in.

"It's raining, man," he said to Gerard. "Stay inside." Gerard wiped the tears away to compose himself before answering him.

"I...I need to vent, I need to cool down..." he said, voice cracking once more.

"You're welcome to talk to me," Dan offered, pulling up a chair for Gerard. "I just really have a bad feeling with letting you go out. It's Newark, and it's raining, and you're not thinking straight...I'm sure whatever just happened will pass by morning."

"I'm not so sure about that," Gerard admitted, his eyes welling up again. "I can't get through to Frankie."

* * *

As soon as Gerard left their room, Frank started bawling and cried his lungs out. Gerard knew about how he felt for him, and threw it in his face as a joke.

_ " I _love _you! I fucking _love _you! Do you understand that?"_

Was that supposed to be a pun at him not understanding Gerard's sarcastic ways? 'Since he didn't understand it with the whole 'kidnap' thing, do it with something else?' Is that what Gerard wanted? Because it fucking worked. Yet more evidence of his rank in Gerard's eyes.

Nice people have their limits, too.

He had to hand it to Pete. That fucker beat him good. He tried to run away and asked Gerard to do the unbelievable, which was something Pete knew he might've done, and which was why Pete got Gerard hired/fired in the first place. And then, Frank fell for him, falling in love with Pete's accomplice! Of course, it makes sense to find out that Gerard and Pete are the actual couple. And Gerard toyed around with Frank because, well, who wouldn't? Not in the conceited 'I'm better looking than you and way hotter' sort of way, but in the 'I want a touch and feel because you've deprived me of it for three months' kind of way. And whenever he did want to take it further, Gerard would stop him. Wonder why.

Frank slowly got up a few moments later, after his throat got too sore for him to sob anymore. Yet another day wasted on him instead of going to visit Mikey. He bitterly began packing and sorting through his things, organizing his bag and searching his wallet for money. He'd go with Gerard to visit his brother.

Why should he care about Mikey, though, if Gerard was just manipulating him? Because after all the evidence he conjured up about the man, he still loved him, and whoever he loved, Frank was going to have to learn to love. Sadly, that now included Pete.

It wasn't too hard for Frank to imagine why he stuck around Pete for so long now. He was witnessing some of the same moves he probably pulled when it was Pete's time, turning a blind eye and giving him the benefit of the doubt.

He was such a sad case...

* * *

"So he's back to square one," Gerard explained, now tear-free and clear minded. He was a bit relieved that Dan had called him in and insisted he speak to him, because now things were out in the open (about their last argument at least) and he didn't feel restricted. Who knows what might've happened had he left the dingy motel?

"I think he probably thought you were being sarcastic," Dan said, drumming his fingers along the desk. "You guys just had an argument before...maybe he interpreted it as 'Gee Frank. I love you...NOT' or something, since the last argument started with him not being able to pick up what was sarcasm."

"But that doesn't mean everything I say is meant for sarcasm," Gerard stated. "I think he's scared of me, now. Too scared to respond. Oh shit, I've probably scared him and scarred him for life. First his ex, and now this..."

"I don't think he's scared of you per say," Dan thought aloud. "From what you're saying, his ex had quite a huge impact on him. Maybe he hasn't transferred all the way yet, and he thinks he's going to lose you the same way he lost his ex."

_ His ex raped him. I don't think that's the problem,_ Gerard was tempted to say, but with the little Dan knew, he made sense. "You're right, I guess," Gerard said finally. "He does that stuff a lot though, and I want him to know those things don't apply to me."

"What does he do?"

"Well first off, if I do any favor at all for him, it has to be because I'm 'a nice person' and would do that for everyone. It's like he's the lowest of the low, and it bothers me. He's my boyfriend. We established that. But he's...just out there."

"He seemed okay two or so nights ago," Dan said, recalling the subway night-out.

"Exactly! That's what I mean by he went back to square one!" Gerard exclaimed in a hushed tone, in case Frank was near the door. He didn't have to worry, though, because Frank was busy packing. "Everything was fine. Perfect. And then we had that stupid argument, and he's acting how he was when I first met him."

"What was that argument about, anyway?" Dan asked. "Maybe you struck a chord."

"Don't I know it," Gerard mumbled, shaking his head. Gerard looked down at his legs, to keep from having to look Dan in the face and push Dan to re-ask his question. Dan noted that Gerard failed to answer his question, but said nothing. It was a couple's squabble, nothing he should have gotten in the middle of.

"You guys will make up again," Dan said finally, reaching for the remote to turn on the television to get rid of any awkward air around them. "Frank loves you. Just go back to him at a time when both of you are a bit calmer and say it again."

"Hm," Gerard agreed, nodding faintly. He knew he'd have to do that sometime soon, before Mikey's. They'd have to go tomorrow now, because the last bus that headed down to his place passed ten minutes ago, while he was still fuming. Gerard got up and waved at Dan, thanking him for his time to sit and listen to him complain and talk/whine/sob.

"No problem," Dan assured him. "Like I said, I'm usually bored as hell, and you guys are quite a character, so...my pleasure." He sat and waved at Gerard while Gerard slowly headed up the stairs to Room 16. He'd never actually entered, planning on calling Mikey before the night was through to affirm that he'd be coming tomorrow. As he waited for Mikey to pick up and planned what he'd say on the answering machine if it came to that, he blocked out the sound from the television Dan had just put on.

Had he stayed behind a bit longer and tuned in when Dan changed the channel onto channel NEWS23, he would have seen what made Dan's eyes bulge out from shock and do a 'double-take' at him.

Because Gerard Way was officially now a wanted man.


	40. Runaway Love

**Runaway Love**

"The body of a twenty-year-old New Jersey man was found dead in a Newark apartment, with three bullet wounds," a reporter cited, staring intently into the screen. Dan's eyes remained glued, waiting for more information to leak out on the suspects. There was a minimized picture of someone who looked strangely identical to Gerard in the corner of the television screen, where the marquee read, "Gerard Way, age 21, is considered a suspect in the shooting and death of his brother in Newark. If you know any whereabouts, call 1-800-CRIMETV." Dan looked at the picture carefully, before gazing back in awe at the unsuspecting man at the top of the stairs. Could it be possible that he was housing Gerard Way?

"The body was discovered three hours ago," the newscaster went on to explain. "It seems to be linked, sources say, to the kidnap of Frank Iero, the teenage son of Anthony and Irene Iero who are involved in a family business. Although the body was discovered recently, it seems like the crime was committed days ago. Due to the cold weather, the body hasn't decayed fully, but signs of decay are evident. Frank Iero, the missing teen, was last seen with Gerard Way, brother to the deceased Michael Way. Gerard is a main suspect, and police say that if you have any information at all of the whereabouts of the two, please do tell."

Upon hearing his name, Gerard crept back down, curiosity getting the better of him. The voice was kind of feminine, but he hadn't completely mastered the sound of Dan's voice. Was Dan talking to him or something? He shut his phone off (Mikey's answering machine could wait) and strained his eyes to see the television screen when he realized that was where the sound was coming from. He never had a hard time seeing, but he could have sworn that he saw pictures of Frank on the T.V.

Dan watched as one of the two men he housed in his motel's pictures came on the screen. Frank was everywhere. At first, he could not point it out, due to the baby pictures. But the pictures eventually progressed to how Frank looked like to today, and he was able to tell that the Frank upstairs and the Frank that was missing from Newark were the same person.

"Frank Anthony Iero was kidnapped," the reporter read, "by Gerard Arthur Way, who was the boy's mentor during the summer…" Gerard's eyes widened as the words reached his ears, and Dan looked at Gerard through the corner of his eye. No words were passed, and Gerard sat at the bottom of the stairs, the weight of his body now too much for him. Dan got a bit bolder with the convicted/suspected man sitting down, and he pulled out the gun he'd hidden in his desk for protection, just to show the man he'd once wanted to befriend that he wasn't afraid to use it if he had to.

"It's…it's not what they're saying," Gerard croaked, his heart rapidly beating. "I-I—''

"Shh," Dan demanded, shaking his head. He looked over at Gerard disappointingly. "I don't believe you…"

"…which was when Gerard allegedly raped Frank," the woman continued reporting. Dan's face twisted with disgust. No wonder Frank was always unhappy whenever he saw him.

"'He wouldn't tell me about it right away,'" someone else said, after he was asked how he found out about the rape. Below him read the caption, Pete Wentz, best friend of Frank Iero. "'I told him that Gerard was taking advantage of him, and he was too scared to come out because Gerard had threatened him, so…there wasn't much he could do.'

"Pete Wentz, close friend of Frank Iero, claimed their relationship became strained ever since Gerard came into the picture. And he says, he knew something was funny about Gerard as soon as he met him.

" 'I kinda expected as much,' Pete continued, shrugging. 'It's unfortunate, but what's done is done. We can't change what happened to poor Mikey, but we can change what he'll do to Frank if we get him in time. I'm worried about him.'

" Frank turns 18 in—''

The television was shut off and Dan turned to Gerard angrily. "You have five minutes, Gerard," he spat. "Five minutes to tell me why you thought I was so damn easy to fool…"

"It's not that at all, Dan," Gerard tried to explain as Dan gripped the gun for protection. "We…I—''

Dan didn't respond, but shut his eyes as he shook his head in disapproval.

Gerard's heart froze. He knew that there was a very large possibility it would come to this, but he hadn't expected it to be anytime soon. Mikey was…and he and Frank weren't on the best of terms at the moment either…and here was Dan, threatening to attack him, someone who had wanted to be his friend earlier. It would have been a bit more manageable if he'd gone to jail on a good note, and Mikey was alive and well, along with Frank understanding how he felt about him…but like this? Getting torn away from Frank now would ruin everything. He'd done this so that if worst came to worst, like it seemed to be going, Frank would know that there was someone out there who did love him. But now…

A tear made a way down Gerard's cheek as he thought about leaving Frank in the state he was in. He was tempted now more than ever to go back upstairs and comfort Frank before he had to be yanked away forever, but he now owed Dan a damn good explanation for leaving him in the dark and not letting him know that he was actually housing a fugitive and a missing person.

He gave a quiet sigh as he tried to regain his composure. Dan needed to know, and then after Dan knew everything, then it would be up to Dan what would happen. But that idea didn't seem half as plausible as Gerard looked over at Dan once more, the gun now laying on he counter table, mere inches away. And by the look on Dan's face, nothing seemed promising.

* * *

Frank stayed in the bedroom, sulking like he used to and wishing he were a different person. He had packed all of his things up already. It wasn't much anyway. He only carried a few things with him…a couple of clothes here and there and his camera…like he said, not much.

He sat around in the room as he gripped his phone. He still couldn't wrap his head around what Gerard had told him. He'd never forget it, he couldn't. It would forever remain a scar in his heart, the painful reminder of what Pete tried to stick in his head for years. No one would ever love him, and the closest thing he'd ever experience to love was what Pete offered and gave him, what he threw away for someone who he thought was better, someone who he thought loved him…

_Gerard did a good job reminding me though_, he scoffed to himself, letting an angry tear make its way down his face. So many times he gave in to something he shouldn't have. You would have thought he'd learn by now.

_And Gerard's probably gone to call Pete_, Frank realized, a sad smile making a way on his face. Looks like he was going to end up back to square one…

You don't have to, part of him argued. _Even if Gerard's a joke, you still learned something from this experience._

"That I'm stupid and Pete always wins? Nothing is new." Frank wiped his eyes and bit back a sob, shaking his head. Great. Now he was talking aloud to himself.

_No, you charity case_, he mentally snapped at himself. _You learned that you don't have to go back._

"Why not?" Frank asked. "What else am I gonna do?"

_You have money, don't you?_ he reminded himself. _When you turn 18, all the money is free to you. Take it and leave._

"I _could _take the money and leave," Frank agreed aloud, slowly getting up. He turned 18 tomorrow. If he left now, he could make it.

He packed his phone and placed it within the backpack. Taking the money and then leaving wasn't such a bad idea, now that he actually thought about it. Gerard was down there, talking to Pete. If he could leave before Gerard got back, it'd be perfect. He wouldn't have to face Gerard and melt. He needed to do this. If he saw Gerard's face he'd break down and let him back into his life, let himself get stepped on all over again…all he had to do was leave and never come back…

_ Maybe leaving without a 'goodbye' would be a little too harsh_, Frank reasoned, his soft spot for Gerard obviously taking hold. Maybe he should return…

_What for?_ a part of him angrily asked. _So you can fall apart and let Gerard keep screwing you over?_

"If we aren't…If he doesn't want anything to do with me," Frank reasoned aloud again, "I'd definitely know by then, right? If I come back and he laughs in my face with Pete by his side…"

_That sounds pretty bad, doesn't it?_ the voice sneered.

"Yeah, but I've been through worse with Pete," Frank murmured to himself, "so what more will going back do? Nothing I haven't done before…but if I come back and he still wants me around…" Frank couldn't help as a corner of his mouth twitched upward. Oh, how he dearly hoped that was the case. Hopefully, somehow, there was a misunderstanding. Hopefully, Gerard wanted him as much as he did. And maybe, just maybe, Gerard meant it when he said that he loved—

"_Are you_ insane?" Frank quietly crept over to the other side of the room, ear against the door as he heard Dan yell some more. _"You have to send him back_. Now, Gerard."

"It's not that easy," he heard the man he once loved admit. Frank's heart skipped a beat. Maybe the proof that Gerard did care for him would come here. He couldn't help but selfishly hope that Gerard would utter something along the lines of 'How can I do such a thing? I love him!' But something like was way too much to ask for, especially once it had to do with him dealing with the police. Now, if anything, would be the best time to listen to Dan and take his advice, before he became a wanted criminal.

_"It's not that simple, Dan,_" Gerard continued._ "I'd love to send him back home. He doesn't belong with me. But I'm stuck with him…"_

To Frank's pleasure and dismay, Gerard responded just like Frank suspected he should have, working for Pete. Although Frank wasn't happy with it, he was happy enough. Because Gerard's ultimate happiness was all that mattered…even if he was crook who worked for Pete. He had learned to love this crook. And if this crook didn't love him, he'd just have to learn to deal with that. He was the person who learned how to deal with Pete, after all.

Gerard talked some more, but Frank zoned out, losing focus. Gerard had already spoken, and it went pretty well with Frank's first theory, making him think that he was right. That was okay, he figured, getting away from the door. He was a bit shocked to see that his prediction had come true. When it came to cases with Gerard, usually his doubts were washed away. This one wasn't, and it turned out he was completely right.

_No biggie_, he thought to himself, hearing his second half sneer at him in the background. _I prepared for this already…time for the money plan…_

Slowly, still a bit dumbfounded that Gerard was not here to coo him or tell him that his thoughts weren't true, Frank gripped the bag. Time for him to think on his own on what he would do now.

Gerard was working for Pete. _That _much he knew. Whether or not Gerard felt the same way he did about him for even an ounce was still unknown. Gerard had to have at least thought that he was somewhat attractive, or else there would have been no kissing…or hard-ons. And without a doubt, Frank was attracted to him.

He needed to find an efficient way of saying goodbye. Maybe he'd leave behind money, the money he should have paid Gerard from the get-go. But how much money would he actually use?

He also had to take into consideration Gerard's brother Mikey. Even if Gerard was part of some plot, he doubted that Mikey was. Mikey had wanted Gerard to send him back before this had become anything big. So maybe he could leave some money for Mikey as well, and have Gerard give it to his brother…

Frank went for his backpack, brushing away a tear as many more threatened to drip from his eyes. He gave a quiet sniffle and chastised himself for crying, but he was pleased with himself for staying strong and going ahead with a plan in mind. Now was not the time to sit down and cry. He had to move on, for both their sakes. Like he told himself, if he got nothing from this experience, he at least learned that he had to start thinking for himself. He hadn't done that last time, and look where it got both him and Gerard. No, he would sit his butt down and tackle this obstacle logically.

As he sat down and poured out his heart on pieces of scrap paper that he could find, he reached for his bag. Hopefully he had some money. And if he didn't he could always leave and come back. Gerard would be happy anyway, so eager to get rid of him. And there was a bank a couple blocks down. He remembered passing one that day that he and Gerard went down into the city for his earrings.

Like a tidal wave, tears struck his eyes once more, but he quickly blinked them away. He didn't regret piercing his ears, but he was extremely sad that he actually thought it was the real deal, only to be rejected again. He'd said he'd pierce his ears so he'd never forget Gerard, and now he wouldn't. Not only did Gerard mangle his heart, but he was forever imprinted on his ears, too. Little reminders that Pete was above all, like Pete had been trying to show him all along.

_So, it was settled,_ Frank decided, taking a deep breath as he searched through his bag for spare cash. Within two or so hours, if everything went to plan, he planned on leaving.

* * *

"It's not hat simple, Dan," Gerard tried to explained to an angry motel owner. "I'd love to send him back home. He doesn't belong with me. But I'm stuck with him."

"What do you mean by 'stuck'?" Dan asked, pacing around downstairs in the lobby. The lobby's walls carried out Dan's voice well, creating echoes. "Send him back."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I l-love him Dan," Gerard sobbed, breaking down as he nearly choked. "I love Frank. And bec-because of that, going back is not an option."

"Gerard, you're not his guardian—''

"I'm the closest thing he's got to one," he interrupted angrily. "He's under my care, Dan. I may not be the best choice for him, but with the way fate works, he's mine. I love him so much now. I can't give him up that easily. I can understand if you call and arrest me, but I can never give Frank up willingly and send him back."

"You may love him, Gerard, but rape is still rape." Dan took a deep sigh and collapsed on his chair, shaking his head. "He's a minor."

"I know, which is why I haven't done anything with him," Gerard said, explaining as he wiped a tear. "That stuff on the television's wrong."

"So you haven't kidnapped Frank?" Dan asked, but he was answered with silence. He shot Gerard a wary and annoyed look as he reached for his phone. He didn't have to take this. Either Gerard was telling the truth, or he wasn't.

"No!"

"Explain. Yourself." Dan held the phone, his finger hovering above the buttons. "Or time's up."

"I…I met Frank a while ago," Gerard said, trying to start.

"No shit, Sherlock," Dan rudely snorted. "It was on the T.V."

"But, I mean…Frank was always so depressive and sad, and I was hired to watch him and stuff," Gerard tried to explain, trying to knock down the story to a couple of lines. He didn't mind Dan's rudeness. What else did he expect, after keeping the secret from him? "I got fired, though—''

"Because you raped him."

"Because Pete raped him," Gerard stressed.

"Pete?" Dan asked, disbelievingly. "Frank's best friend?"

"That's a lie," Gerard said, shaking his head. "You go on up there and ask Frank. Pete's not his best friend. Pete's the one who really molested him, which was why he was always so sad, tormented, broken…"

"So why'd you get fired?" Dan asked, raising a brow. "Didn't Frank say?"

"They never believed him," Gerard said, shaking his head. "He…He wasn't the most social kid for his age, and his parents figured Pete knew more and understood Frank better than anyone. But in reality, Pete was screwing things up. And Frank had never truly liked Pete anyway. With me in the picture, things just got worse between the two of them, so Pete pulled some strings and got me fired. And he made me think that Frank had something to do with it, so I just left without looking back…" Another tear went down his cheek and Gerard bit back a sob. "And it broke his heart," Gerard continued, recalling that day. "Poor thing was upset that Pete seemed to ruin things between us. We had an innocent friend thing going on, and then it was done thanks to Pete. But I saw Frank again, because I left my jacket over there, and I had to know for sure if what Pete had said was true…and then Frank clung on to me, and he asked me to take him."

"You should have left him."

By this point, Gerard faced Dan, pleading with him. "You would understand if you had someone cling on to you the way Frankie did, asking you to take him away from his misery. You would've understood had you known him before, when he wouldn't talk or smile to anyone. But he reached out to me, he called to me, pleaded that I help him. So I did. I had to help the fallen angel."

"You kidnapped him," Dan reiterated, but his finger that hovered above the buttons fell to his side. He shook his head, phone still in hand as he showed disapproval. "He was a minor."

"I couldn't send him back, Dan." Gerard now avoided eye contact, biting on his nail. "Not when I knew how depressed he was going to become. And he'd planned on running away anyway. He told me during one of our random talks. But I couldn't have that happen. If he ran away, no one would know his whereabouts, and who knows if we'd ever find him? At least now, he's safe. With me."

Dan replayed the information over again in his head as he set the phone down. Try as he might, he couldn't turn Gerard in. From what he was saying, it wasn't hard for him to put himself in Gerard's shoes. Had he cared about Frank the way Gerard did he probably would have kidnapped Frank as well. But why let it go as far as this? Why couldn't Gerard call Frank's parents and let them know? Why did he have to go hide and go on the run? That surely wouldn't help his case.

He gave Gerard one last look before setting the phone down back in its appropriate spot, instead of just on the desk. He was just going to pretend that he'd never seen what he just saw. And there was honestly no need for the gun. If Gerard had wanted to kill him, he would have done so a while ago, while he was off guard. But as the silence overwhelmed the two of them, Dan couldn't help but ask, "Why?"

Gerard gave a sniffle and shrugged, but that wasn't a good enough answer. "Why?" Dan pressed. "Why risk everything like that for him? You guys weren't close friends or anything. He could have gone home. Frank's problems were Frank's problems. Why the need…?"

"Because I knew what he was going through," Gerard answered, a bit relieved Dan had put the phone as well as the gun away. "Frank…he would have run away, and no one would have noticed anyway. His parents never see him, and the only guy that did see him was Pete, but Pete's a bad mix."

"So who's this Pete guy?" Dan asked, confused. "And why'd they say he's Frank's best friend?"

"He used to be Frank's friend until he molested Frank and took advantage of him," Gerard quietly admitted. "It took Frankie a long time to come and tell me. And it wasn't hard for me to believe. Pete could walk in and out of that house as he pleased, since the parents thought he and Frank were such close friends. And I also could tell from first hand experience that Pete would be capable."

"And how's that?" Dan asked disbelievingly. It seemed very unlikely that Gerard would be mixed into it all, with Frank and him both involved with the same person.

"I used to work for him…and when I say work, I mean work as in 'work'." Gerard shook his head in shame, turning a deep shade of pink. "Mikey and I lived in the dirtiest part of Newark together. And so the only way I could make any reliable source of money was from…prostitution, I guess, and I did…ended up working for Pete…but I never knew that Pete was involved with Frank because I never saw him at the place, and Frank never told me about him until after we ran away."

"But you said the reason why you were fired was because of Pete," Dan pointed out. "How's that if you never even saw him?"

"Pete told them that info," Gerard said. "The two of us never encountered each other in the house. When I came, he left, and when he came, I left. Frank told me after we ran away that Pete was completely responsible."

"But…still Gerard," Dan argued, although it was pretty useless to change anything now. "What does that mean about Mikey, though? If you didn't do it—''

"Of course not," Gerard replied, aghast. "That was the day Frank and I came in late. Remember?" Dan nodded, unwillingly. Don't get him wrong. He didn't want the television to turn out right and have Gerard a rapist and killer. But just knowing some small details about the whole true reason why the two of them were here was a little bit disheartening. Even though Dan wasn't involved, he could tell the two of them would never see the end of this for a long time.

"The day we went to New York by the subway…Mikey's killing is all Pete's doing…to bring to light the fact that Frank's missing and that I probably have him," Gerard continued to bitterly explain. He still couldn't fully grasp the fact that Mikey was the dead twenty-year-old that they were talking about on T.V.

"Gerard, I think parents would know whether or not their child's missing—''

"Not Frank's parents," Gerard interrupted. "How'd do you think Pete kept this hidden for so long? Let Frank and I fall for each other, before cutting the ropes? Before killing my brother? Honestly, there was no need for that. Not if he could have just reported me, y'know?" Gerard lost his composure again, thinking of his brother. "But no. Pete's a stupid motherfucker that wants to cause pain to every human being that doesn't do things his way. He knew he'd get Frank back in the end, no matter what I did. So why'd he go and kill Mikey? What for?" Gerard demanded, sobbing. All he'd wanted was enough time to get a message through Frank, and let him know that he was valuable, that he was worth loving, and what Pete demonstrated to him wasn't love. It was abuse.

He held on to the stair railing as he let his heart and hate pour out for losing his brother and for the fucker that killed him. Pete was evil and twisted. Poor Mikey was up in that apartment for days alone. Pete's words from their last conversation played in his head, and he angrily shook them away.

_"Mikey? Or 'Frankie'?"_

He hadn't chosen Frankie over Mikey. He hadn't said anything at all. How could he chose? Both of them held a place in his heart.

"Stupid fucker," he finally muttered, his sobs quieting down. He felt like such a baby. He wanted nothing more right now than for Frank to be in his arms, to give him a sense of belonging and purpose. If Mikey wasn't here, Frank became the only person worth living for. Sadly, that person Gerard was supposed to watch over was upstairs, back at square one. All this had been done in vain. Frank was going to go back to Pete, having learned and taken nothing from his experience, and the whole thing would be pointless. Gerard would have kidnapped Frank, lost Mikey, and gone to jail for no reason. As long as Frank learned that he deserved to be treated the way he should have been treated, Gerard was fine. Yes, he'd weep over his brother and going to jail would not suck as much. But now…

"I'm not going to send you in," Dan finally spoke, witnessing Gerard crumble in front of him. Damn him if he was wrong, but Gerard didn't seem like the criminal type to him, especially not after his story. If anything, Gerard and Frank (if Gerard was telling the truth) needed this place to rest in. After hearing his story, Gerard was more like a hero than a criminal, and heroes don't get sent to jail…at least, not by him.

"I perfectly understand you wanting to send me in," Gerard responded, not paying true attention to Dan's words.

"No, Gerard, I'm not calling."

"Not? Why not?" Gerard asked, giving a small sniffle. "Didn't you see the T.V.? I'm a wanted felon…"

"Because you've…I dunno," Dan admitted. "I probably shouldn't be going with 'gut' feelings, but I feel like you're telling the truth, I guess…or half of it. I can't turn you in. And besides, you guys have been nothing but nice to me…"

"I should probably leave and keep you out of it," Gerard reasoned. "I mean, you could get arrested for housing a fugitive."

"That didn't stop you before," Dan dryly commented, running his hands through his hair.

"Yeah, but you didn't know then," Gerard pointed out. "Now you do."

"What did I just say?" Dan demanded, raising a brow at Gerard. "I said I'm not sending you in. Let's pretend we never saw that thing on T.V., okay? Erase it. I want you to go upstairs and talk to Frank, get things settled out. Because now we both know for sure that time is an enemy." Gerard let himself give a big sigh before nodding in agreement with Dan. He'd never thought about how he'd break the news to Frank that all his troubles and concerns had finally come true. This whole thing had been pointless, and Gerard never felt so stupid. Dan saw Gerard struggling with what his next move of action would be and he went up to Gerard and cautiously held his shoulder.

"I think it's time he's learned, too."

* * *

"Hey, Frankie?"

Gerard quietly entered Room 16, not wanting to make any sudden moves or noises in case Frank had fallen asleep. He'd stayed downstairs a few more hours, chatting away with Dan about his life before he met Frank and after. It went without saying that he completely convinced Dan that he made the right choice to take Frank with him that night, despite Mikey's attempts. If only he'd listened to Mikey, he'd be alive now…

A bittersweet feeling of nostalgia hit Gerard as he passed the coffee table filled with his unpacked clothes and items he had planned to send over to Mikey's. There was no need going now, was there?

But he needed to stay strong for just a little while longer. He needed to keep composure for Frank. From now until he was arrested, it would strictly be his and Frank's time. He just badly needed to get through to Frank just how he felt about him, and if sex was the only way Frank would understand, then so be it. They were out of time, and they were having communication barriers. Gerard didn't want to have to come to the sex as a last resort. He wanted it to be more like an option. But at this point, he was desperate to show Frank in anyway that he meant what he'd said.

With no answer, Gerard flicked on the lights, hoping to find Frank cuddled in bed. He'd already planned that he would cuddle up beside him and hold him so that they would wake up tomorrow together. And hopefully by then Frank would have a clear mind, and they could make sure they understood each other.

To Gerard's disappointment, Frank wasn't in bed, which led him to believe that Frank was curled up on the floor. The mental image made him slightly cringe as he quickly scanned the ground for Frank, but found nothing. If Frank wasn't on the floor or in the bed, that meant he could only be in the bathroom…and when he couldn't find Frank in the bathroom, that could only mean Frank was in the closet, although Gerard wasn't sure why he'd be in the closet…but it was worth a shot.

And it wasn't too soon before Gerard began to lose total control and panicked when Frank was neither in the closet nor under the bed.

He pulled the curtains to the windows apart, hoping Frank was standing behind them when he realized the windows had been opened. He closed them and headed back through the door of Room 16, hoping to see Frank out in the lobby. When he wasn't there, his heart rate sped up. Dan saw that Gerard was panicking and headed over.

"What's wrong?" he warily asked, peeking into Gerard's room. "Did Frank do something?" he asked, Frank's past threats of running away replaying in his mind. He was worried for a minute about Frank's well being, but he had hoped nothing drastic had happened. The look on Gerard's face wasn't helping much, though.

"That depends," Gerard responded, his voice betraying his apparent fear. "Have you seen Frank?"

"I haven't seen him at all," Dan replied. "You know that. I was down here with you…"

"Shit," Gerard quietly cursed to himself, putting his hand through his hair as he violently tugged on it. "_Damn _it."

"Gerard, what's wrong?" Dan asked. "What did Frank do? Where is he?"

"That's the thing," Gerard admitted fearfully. "I don't know where he is, but he's not upstairs."

"What are you saying, Gerard?" Dan asked, a bit nervous himself.

"Frank must've heard us when we were talking, Dan," Gerard cried, shaking his hands. He ran one of his hands shakily through his hair before he gave it a final tug in annoyance with himself for screwing up any more than he possibly could have. Once he thought back of all the places Frank could have possibly been in their room and recalled that Frank wasn't there, he murmured, "He definitely heard, Dan…because now he's gone."


	41. A Million Little Pieces

**A Million Little Pieces**

"May I ask why the huge withdrawal Mr. Iero?" the woman at the desk asked, squinting her eyes to read the name that popped up on the computer. Although he was not a regular customer, it was still her duty to ask questions like these when huge amounts of money were taken from an account. "You are Mr. Iero, right?"

"Um, yeah," Frank replied, digging his hands in his pockets. "I'll sign if you want…"

"Says here that you're a minor," she read, looking over the sheet he handed to her. Frank sighed, hoping she'd stop with the annoying questions and just give him the money he was looking for. But she wasn't so easily persuaded.

"This is the minor account, so I don't think there's any problem," he said, dismissing any more questions she might have had. "May I please get the money now? It's kinda important…"

"So it shouldn't matter, then, if I alert your parents?" she asked, still doubting his story. It wasn't weird to have a minor bank account and withdraw from it. But it was odd when the minor account was drained of its money, all $100,000 of it. Plus, the boy was asking for it in cash. Some things weren't adding up. And if this was a minor account, she reserved the right to alert the parents if anything fishy was going on. Besides, she wasn't the only one who thought his request was a bit odd. The young man was receiving a lot of odd stares.

But what if the reason for the odd stares was due to his fame and popularity? That had happened before.

The woman got a bit nervous. She'd heard stories of famous people stopping by and being kicked out because of the stupid requirements. Was this guy famous? And would denying him money bring bad publicity to the bank? He looked like he could be…

"Look, I turn 18 tomorrow," Frank tried reasoning with her. Although he decided it'd be best to leave Gerard, he hadn't wanted his parents to get to him first. He still needed to return so he could add the finishing touches to his notes. "Think of it as my own birthday present to myself, even if it is only a couple hours away. Don't ruin that for me." He made sure their eyes were level before he quietly added, "Please."

The woman at the desk nervously looked around, not wanting her co-workers to hear their discussion. "But I don't see why anyone would take out that much money," she whispered. "Even if you feel like binging…it'd be safer to keep some of it inside."

"With all due respect," Frank started, "I need the money to pay someone off…and how I spend my money is my business, anyway. So if you would please…?" She shot him a wary look but complied with his wishes, taking out the $100,000.

"How would you like that in?" she asked, recording the information on the computer. "Singles? Tens? Twenties?"

"Hundreds?" Frank asked, and she gave a slight nod. At least she had an easier time believing his story. Seems like he wasn't taking it out for show, or else he would have asked for singles.

"You do know that people can get the wrong idea and probably will mistake you for robbing the bank with the amount of money you're taking out," she warned, counting the crisp bills. Frank gave a shrug.

"That'll be my problem…I guess…"

He waited silently for her to finish counting (which took a while) before he accepted the cash without counting the amount, shoving it in his backpack. The woman still felt uneasy about handing all the money over, even if it did belong to him, so she decided to find out how he'd gotten it.

"Was this like an inheritance or something?" she questioned, searching the man's bank profile. Frank gave a nonchalant shrug.

"Allowance," he lied. "Parents are kinda rich, I guess."

"You don't seem like the type," she admitted, but as she looked at who his parents were, she had to cut him some more slack. The whole 'owning $100,000 and taking it all out on whim' thing seemed more fitting once she knew that he was related to the Ieros and their huge stock company.

"Well, thank you again," Frank said, giving a brief nod as he continued to stuff his bag. He couldn't help but think that he'd sounded a bit snappish toward her, but he had to get back home in time, before Gerard would come up. Once he was done, he exited the doors, being sure to create no noise. He just wanted to disappear from there. The sooner he left, the sooner and the quicker his plans would unfold.

Not soon after the young man had left the bank (about ten minutes later) did the woman see the report of a missing teen airing on the television in front of her, the son of the Ieros. No doubt would news hit viewers hard. She could already imagine how much money the Ieros were probably making from this story. True, their son was missing. But did they know how many people would feel and empathize with them enough to buy large shares of the company?

She dismissed the case, already sure that the Ieros would find their kid and life would go on. It was probably just another hoax in order to get more money. It had to be. That last customer was related to the Ieros, and he didn't seem worried in the least about a missing relative. There was absolutely no other motive behind the 'kidnapping' than the money. Although, relying on that customer's minor bank account full of $100,000, they needed no help in that area…

She had dismissed the young man's importance and significance until she saw a picture that resembled him a bit. Then again, he was related to the guy. Of course there would be some resemblance. Plus, his hair was different, along with his face jewelry. As similar as the two seemed to be, they were obviously different. And to call CRIMETV just because she saw the dude's cousin or whatever was extremely stupid. That kid on the screen was younger. That last customer was a bit more 'hard-core' or 'gruff' it seemed. Like a different person altogether.

Even if that was the kid (she couldn't catch his name), the last customer he'd said he'd needed the money to pay back someone. So if anything she'd helped save his life, because if he hadn't gotten the money, who knows? Maybe his kidnapper would have killed him. But now, he was safe from that…but that was only if that was the missing teen.

It was always better to keep yourself uninvolved with the cops. She'd learned from firsthand experience. If that was truly Frank Iero and she'd seen him in broad daylight, then the cops were pretty fucking sad to miss him, and for that he should be allowed to be left alone. Besides the whole money thing, he didn't seem to be in danger, no signs of 'please help me.'

No, she wouldn't call. Not until she was certain and sure the man that just left was indeed Frank Iero, and not just any Iero.

* * *

"Another note," Dan softly alerted Gerard, who was on the verge of tears reading his first one. The room was extremely clean, and nothing was on the floor. The bed was made, and the only thing that seemed out of place were Gerard's clothes. The place was cleaner than Dan had ever managed to get it, which amazed him as well. But that was the least important thing right now. What was more important was Gerard's well being.

Apparently, Frank had always brought up and thought up the idea of leaving, and it was demonstrated as such in his letters to Gerard. Dan began to regret forcing the idea of returning Frank to Gerard, especially because he'd been loud enough for Frank to hear, and Frank (according to Gerard) could be very easily influenced when he wanted to be. And this was a case that Frank was very fragile on.

Dan set the letter down, feeling like an intruder into Gerard's life. It looked like Frank was gone for good. None of his belongings were on the coffee table or inside the closet like they would have normally been (according to Gerard). Frank didn't have much anyway, so it wasn't hard to imagine that Frank had taken all his things with ease. It seemed to Dan that he was in the cross-fire of a breakup, one that he helped happen.

"B-But why?" Gerard's soft and broken voice made its way to Dan and Dan felt extremely guilty. He quietly made his way over to Gerard and patted his shoulder, offering an unspoken apology. Gerard sat there ignoring his touch while his mind was still on Frank's letter.

"Is…Is that all he left?" Dan asked quietly, giving Gerard a small nudge. Gerard shook his head and brought up the second note he held in his hand.

"This was on the second pillow," he admitted, wiping his eyes as he used the other one to extend the note to Dan. "Found it over here, next to this…"

By Gerard's gestures, it seemed like he was passing the note over to Dan, but Dan didn't want to impose. In fact, it'd be best if he just left…then again, he'd feel like shit if he left Gerard alone. Gently, Dan accepted the note from him as Gerard muttered, "Can you see what he wrote?"

From that statement, Dan had thought Gerard never actually read it. But after he was done reading it aloud, he realized the point Gerard was trying to get across.

_"P.P.P.S._  
_Here's $4,000 more for Mikey,"_ the paper read.

_"I'm sorry for delaying us for so many times, and when you go see him, tell him 'hi' for me, will you? He was nice to me…plus, remember that night I stayed over? I bet I bothered his rest, so that's for that…and the fact that he's been paying our 'rent' here at the motel, so to speak. I also know that I'm probably $2,500 over, but I didn't just wanna leave without giving him anything, so thanks in advance. Or you could just keep the $5,000. I know you'll use it on him anyway._  
_Thanks._  
_Frank Iero"_

Dan quieted down as he got to the end. This letter, if anything, was more evidence to prove Gerard's innocence with Mikey's death. He flipped the note over and read to himself 'Look under the pillow Gee xoxo'

If Gerard had truly kidnapped him, why would Frank give him money? And why would Gerard be disturbed by the idea of getting the money?

Realizing that he made the right choice to keep quiet, Dan handed the note back to Gerard, who gripped it. "Wow. That's…a lot of money."

Gerard muttered curses quietly to himself, wiping away another tear. It seemed like he'd never see Frank again. And the idea of Frank wanting to pay Mikey was heartwarming, although Mikey was now…forget it. He wasn't going to tell Frank about Mikey, and he hoped to god Frank wouldn't find out. He'd only blame himself, and Gerard wasn't sure of where that would lead.

"Have you found the money?" Dan asked, his question reaching Gerard's ears but not his brain. It wasn't until Dan started fishing for the second note that Gerard snapped out of it.

"What?" he asked, handing Dan the second and longer note. He didn't care if this was a bit more personal. He'd told Dan everything else, and there was now absolutely nothing else to hide. "Oh, the money? What money?"

"He said $4,000," Dan reminded him, and Gerard's eyes widened when he reread that part. He remembered hearing it, but apparently nothing stayed in his head. He seemed to have droned out while Dan was reading it as well, because if it was in the note then that meant Dan had read it aloud.

"Where the fuck's that?" Gerard asked, turning the note over to read, "'Look under the pillow'…"

Doing as the card instructed, Gerard flipped over the first pillow to find hard-core cash, which made him tremble from both the surprise and the shock. Frank actually did it and paid Mikey—or him—the money. All the time he had spent with Frank he'd only seen him take out $25 at the most. And to see 4 grand and possibly more lying in the space underneath the pillow was mind-blowing to Gerard. He'd never seen that much money before in his life. At least, not all in one place. Maybe he'd come to see $4,000 over a course of two years since he left his parents, and to see the money lying there as a simple 'thank you' to his brother scared him.

"It's not real," Gerard concluded, staring at it warily. "It can't be."

Dan took a step closer and inspected it closely, taking out a bill and placing it against the light. "No, Gerard," he said after the little test. "It's real. Really $4,000."

"No," Gerard said, shaking his head and looking back into the note. "It's…that's crazy. Four thousand to Mikes for a 'thank you for being nice to me'?"

"It's…his money, I guess," Dan said in Frank's defense. He was pretty sure the second note he now held in his hands had some more money in store for Gerard himself.

Dan felt utterly stupid. He must have been insane to think Frank was stuck with Gerard against his will.

Gerard remained in his seat but cautiously reached out for the cash. When he felt the paper against his fingertips, he sadly whispered, "It's real."

"I'm sorry, Gerard—''

"Which means that there should be money in this second pillow," he continued to himself in awe. "Can you believe him, Dan? Another $25,000…I've never seen so much money in my fucking life."

"Twenty-five thousand more?" Dan asked, unbelievably. "That's a whole lot. Some people make that much a year. And you're telling me Frank just handed it over to you?" Gerard waited a while before he gripped the second pillow, scared to turn it over. If there was money under the pillow it also meant that Frank meant the rest of what he said in his letters, and that he was gone for good. Gone forever.

"You have the letter, don't you?" Gerard challenged him, gripping the pillow tightly in heavy anticipation. "Read it. Out loud."

By the sound in Gerard's voice, Dan wasn't sure it'd be best to read the note aloud like Gerard wanted. "You don't care about it being personal?"

"Personal?" Gerard asked. "In what sense, Dan? I've told you everything."

"Well…what about your privacy?"

"You think it's okay for me to have my own privacy again?" Gerard bitterly joked. "You'll believe what I read?" That hurt Dan a bit, and he wanted to apologize, but Gerard interrupted him, taking the note. Apparently, he meant nothing by it. He could see why Frank had gotten confused with Gerard's "I love you," message before.

"Fine, I'll read," Gerard said, clearing his throat. It took him a while, because he started to read it to himself before he decided he'd let Dan in on it.

"I'm sorry," Gerard soon apologized. "It's just…I can't believe this yet. I can't get over Mikey and Frank, getting that piece on T.V.…"

"You don't have to read it to me, Gerard," Dan said, backing away. He couldn't imagine how he'd feel if someone had killed his little sister, and then on top of that…if his girlfriend had broken up with him? Both things were very hard to deal with. Plus, Gerard already had stress on him from trying to steer clear of police and people in general.

"No," Gerard said. "I…I have to. If Frank is really gone, I have to start getting used to that sorry fact. The sooner, the better…right?" There was nothing Dan could do but simply nod, because he knew it was what Gerard wanted and needed right now. Gerard gave Dan a small smile and waved the note before he started to read Frank's words.

_"P.S._  
_Okay, here's the cash you refused to take, even though I wanted you to take it from day one. I have to admit I thought you were different, and I felt like you deserved it. I guess you still kinda do, but…well, we already went over that, so forget it. And don't try to say anything to me about how much cash is here. It's only $20,000. Maybe I shouldn't say 'only' but I feel like I've jipped you. You deserve so much more than that, but…that's all I have. I'm so sorry."_

"He was crying," Gerard sadly noted, tracing an area on the paper softly, where the ink of the felt pen Frank had used met Frank's tears. He continued speaking to himself, rubbing the paper. "You tried to hide it from me, didn't you?" Dan stood behind Gerard, not wanting to interrupt. This was Gerard's moment, and he could do whatever he wanted, and say anything he wanted. It wasn't like it was a long time before Gerard became focused again, giving a brief chuckle before he continued reading.

_"But technically, since I know you'll take it there, I do owe you $20,000 on behalf of my parents and the Ieros, for watching over their pathetic son Frank, who did nothing but screw you up and over…never mind, there I go again. I already said all that in the other letter, hm? Please don't hate my guts. I know I still have feelings for you, and I shouldn't. I can't help it, and you've become an important person in my life. I'm sorry if it disgusts you. But look at it this way—you shouldn't be hearing from me again. You can burn all these three notes later, if you'd like. How fun would that be?_

_"P.P.S._  
_'Technically' I lied. I've added another $5,000 to the other money. I found some more. I never realized how many pockets my backpack actually had, and how little I actually use. Sorry, I'm blabbing again. Here's $5,000 more for that last day and going through with it all, and here's $1,000 for Mikey. You're relationship with him has probably been strained because of me. I'm sorry for ruining your family. And I know no money in the world can fix that. So I'm sorry."_

"So…I'm a bit confused," Dan finally said, sitting on the bed next to Gerard after Gerard stopped. The bed shook for a moment before returning back to normal. Gerard passed the letter over and Dan scanned it over again while Gerard let the words sink in. After a small moment, Dan asked, "So…Mikey's overall total is now $1,000?"

"It can't be," Gerard reminded him, pointing to the shitload of cash beside them. "He said $4,000."

"But I also remember hearing a '$5,000' in there somewhere," Dan said. He scanned the second note again, before looking at the first one. When he found what he was looking for, he showed Gerard. "Here," he said, pointing. "It says here he's giving Mikey '$4,000 more."

"What more is there?" Gerard asked, giving a sniffle.

"And the first note has a P.P.P.S., whereas this second note had a P.S and P.P.S.," Dan continued, before he looked at Gerard. "Did you get them in the right order? Because I'm starting to think we read them in the wrong order."

"Maybe," Gerard agreed slowly, looking at the two papers Dan held. "I was just…out of it. I should have noticed the P.S., P.P.S., P.M.S., whatever the hell it was. I should have realized it, but…"

"Where's the first one then?" Dan asked, interrupting Gerard in the middle of his apology. Gerard gave him a questioning look.

"Don't we have it all?" Gerard asked, hands off of the pillow completely, forgetting why they were there in the first place.

"Well, if our first note starts with a 'P.S.,' then…"

"The real first one is still out here," Gerard finished, eyes scanning the room. But he couldn't find any place. The whole room was clean, spic and span. He pulled the second pillow over to see if maybe another note was hidden there when he came across the $25,000 Frank had given him. So far, he concluded as he did the math in his head, Frank had given up $5,000 to Mikey (which went to him) as well as $25,000 for the babysitting job. That was $30,000. Thirty-thousand-fucking-dollars. And there was another note?

Now that he thought about it, he should have been able to pick that up from Frank's note that they last read, with both the P.S. and the P.P.S. He kept referring to something that he'd already spoken about, which wasn't possible because they hadn't. For example, there was the case when he spoke about loving Gerard and how he was sorry about being his boyfriend…? To refresh his memory on what Frank has exactly said, he looked for the note while Dan looked through the garbage.

_"…never mind, there I go again. I already said all that in the other letter, hm? Please don't hate my guts. I know I still have feelings for you, and I shouldn't. I can't help it, and you've become an important person in my life. I'm sorry if it disgusts you. But look at it this way—you shouldn't be hearing from me again. You can burn all these three notes later, if you'd like. How fun would that be?"_

In there, there was all the proof Gerard needed. Apparently, Frank had 'already said all that in the other letter,' whatever he was talking about. But it probably had something to do with their relationship, something Frank considered something bad enough to make Gerard want to burn 'all [those] three notes.' And even in itself, Frank had acknowledged that he had three notes.

"Hey, Gerard?" Dan called, interrupting his thoughts as he left the pile of paper/garbage. Gerard turned to face Dan and saw half of a torn paper in his hand as well as another crumpled piece of paper in Dan's other hand. As Gerard stood up to head over in Dan's direction, Dan extended his hands out to him dejectedly. Gerard could barely make out the 'Hey Gee xoxo' on the paper when Dan informed him, "I think I found the first letter."

* * *

Frank took a short breath as the cold October (nearly November) air whipped his face. As uncomfortable as it was, he was going to have to get used to it, since he was no longer going to invade in on Gerard's life. He still had to make a trip back to the motel, though. He'd given Gerard at least $30,000 in cash, but that wasn't enough in his eyes. He'd written a third letter. That letter was the most important for him, too. But he'd thrown it out. It was too much, he'd decided last minute. It was too much to admit over to Gerard, someone who probably was working for Pete. If Gerard found out what he wrote in that letter, Pete would surely use it against him for the rest of his life.

He'd told Gerard that he loved him in that letter, but he decided that wasn't the best way to go about it. He couldn't admit to Gerard, who was hired by Pete, that he loved him. Hell, Gerard already had an idea and even then he'd decided to throw it in his face. Pete would punish him for it, surely. But, Frank had avoided mentioning Pete in the letter, or anything that hinted that he knew what he did. He was determined to tell Gerard that he loved him in other ways (keeping Pete in mind), which was why he ripped up that damned piece of paper. Hopefully Gerard was still downstairs, talking with Dan about his future. He could sneak back upstairs and fix the mistake.

But what if Gerard had already come upstairs? His mind toggled with that possibility as his faced got whipped by the air once more. Shivering, he pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head. Damn him for asking Gerard to take him. He should've known better, and he should've packed additional clothes (besides the summer ones).

But going back to the problem at hand…the motel was a good thirty minutes from here, with the way Frank was walking. Maybe if he was in a hurry, he'd arrive in fifteen minutes. But why on Earth would he be eager to arrive to the motel to think of a clever way to lie to Gerard about how he felt? Maybe he could start off by getting straight to the point, telling him that he knew about Pete, and he was sorry for causing him to have to undergo this mission to bring him back to Pete. That would make sense. That sentence in itself was a good note. No more, no less, and he'd still get the message across.

Or he could just forget writing a letter confessing his love as a whole.

Even if Gerard was brought by Pete and possibly could have felt any ounce of anything for Frank, Frank knew Gerard also probably loathed him a bit for keeping him so far from his boyfriend.

If Gerard was upstairs, Frank could just say that he went out for a walk. Besides, he couldn't figure out a way for him to get back in without going through the lobby. So, he would pass by Gerard. It was inevitable, and he needed a story. It wouldn't be hard for Gerard to believe that Frank went out for a walk to cool down, would it? Because that was the best story Frank had. He needed to breathe and so he left for a walk. And he left through the window because he didn't want to see Gerard.

That was a nice combo, he applauded himself. He also doubted Gerard had actually gone into the room anyway. And if he did, he'd probably be down in the lobby worrying his ass off because the kid he was supposed to bring back to his boyfriend was missing. Too busy to see the small pieces of paper on the pillows, Frank also hoped.

Sighing, Frank gripped his backpack tighter and tiredly strolled back toward the motel, making up things he would say on his revised version of his first letter, unbeknownst to him that his first letter was already discovered.

* * *

_"Hey Gee, xoxo._  
_Like I've probably mentioned or hinted, I've liked you for a long time, before we even became 'boyfriends.' And when we did, I was extremely happy. I've never felt so happy for such a long period of time. To admit to you, I still am, and it makes me smile. Heh. Would you look at that? Even as I plan to run away, I'm smiling. :)_

_"But, as usual, I was too wrapped up in my happiness to realize the trick this was. Trick, on my part, because this love was forced. This love wasn't forced at all from you, but from me onto you. For starters, you have the kidnapping on your hands, and possibly even rape, even though I feel like Pete deserves it. Screw that. He does deserve it. I don't get why the world is so unfair and punishes you for doing the right thing…_

_"Why have I suddenly decided to go out on my own? Well, the argument we had was…it opened my eyes, I'll just say that. It opened my eyes a whole lot, fucking pulled out my eyelashes in the process of keeping my lids open, Gee. It never truly sunk in how you must've felt on the other end, and now I've tried seeing that side of things and I can't go on 'stuck with you.' If it hurts you, you should know just how much it hurts me that I'm hurting you. If anything happened to Mikey, I'd hurt with you, just like you hurt with me about what Pete's done._

_"I'm not proud at all with how I've messed up your name, and I heard the stuff going on downstairs Gee. I agree with what you said completely, and I'm gonna go back. I thought about it, and I've decided that loving somebody means that you want him or her to be happy, like you did for me. I want to do the same and make you happy by going back. All I want is you to be okay, and in order to do that your name needs to be cleared, along with you going back to Mikey. I'm sure he misses you._

_"I would. I will. I will because you've risked so much for me, so much that it bothers me actually. I'll miss lying with you, talking to you, holding your hand, and kissing you. Why? Because I—''_

Gerard scrambled, quickly prying the crumpled piece of paper in Dan's hand. He had to finish this letter, no matter how blurry his vision had now become. Why on Earth had this been torn and thrown in the garbage? What was Frank's issue? He knew that undoubtedly Frank had not wanted him to find his words. Why else was it in the garbage, whereas the rest had been easily accessible?

"Dan, where's the rest?" Gerard asked, urging Dan to open up the crumpled paper. Dan shook his head at the paper in his hand, and Gerard's heart froze.

"It's not this," Dan said, handing the blank crumpled sheet over.

"What?"

"It's not this paper," Dan reiterated, shaking his head. "This is real garbage, but maybe there's more inside the can…"

"Why on Earth would he…?"

"I don't know," Dan admitted, going back to the garbage. Gerard got up with him, hoping to find the second half of the note. He was almost certain Frank was about to admit something grand, which was why Frank probably ripped it up, attempting to hide it. But it was too late. They both knew each other, and Gerard knew Frank enough to know that Frank second doubted himself again, in his own private letter.

Gerard lightly shoved Dan over as he reached for the can and turned it upside down in a desperate attempt to find the other part of the letter. But all he could find was tissue and maybe a few scraps here and there…the scraps had some scribble on them, but in Gerard's mind, there was only one thing he was looking for; a big second half of a paper.

But what if the second half had been torn into multiple pieces?

Thinking of that possibility, Gerard began to assemble the smaller pieces of paper to find that they connected with one another to form another nice paragraph full of words Frank had written, but dare not speak. It made Gerard a bit sad that Frank felt like he shouldn't feel this way, but the truth was that Frank had every right to feel the way he did. He shouldn't have felt the need to cover it up to such lengths as he was now.

"Why would he rip it up like this?" Dan asked, as he tried to help Gerard fix the multiple papers.

"Because…he's Frank," he answered him glumly. "He said goodbye and was going to say goodbye hiding this info, which is apparently the most important thing he has to say." Giving a sigh, Gerard put together the last piece as he noticed that the new part he added on also had another part missing. But he could make out the general message of the note. He tried searching more, but no more pieces of paper could be found.

"There's the other piece?" Dan asked, and Gerard nodded.

"I guess so," he sighed, reading Frank's scribbled words. Frank's words were precious and it angered him that Frank went so far to write them and then rip them apart and throw them in the trash.

Dan skimmed the first line of the new section and gave a sympathetic smile. "He's scared, Gerard."

"I know," Gerard admitted, scanning over the first line.

"I don't think he's ever felt this way," Dan said, reading along. "If what you said about his past relationship is true, then he's made significant change. You should be proud of what you've done."

"I haven't done anything," Gerard mumbled. If he'd done anything right at all, Frank would be right next to him. Frank wouldn't have written these words from the bottom of his heart and then torn them and thrown them away in the trash. Along with Frank's regression, if Gerard had done anything right, Mikey'd be alive and well.

"…_Because I love you, Gee,_" Dan continued to read, trying to prove his point he was trying to make.

_"I've tried wracking my brain to see if there is any other feeling that I'm experiencing, but I'm 99.9% that I feel love for you. So much love, Gee. I never imagined I'd feel like this about anyone, but I was glad a felt that way about you. It feels weird to say or admit, but I'm pretty sure I do…I know it's more than a crush for sure. I can't stop thinking about you, even as I plan to run away. All I can think about is your beautiful face, your mesmerizing and penetrating eyes, your extremely soft lips, your kind heart, your strong arms that always make me feel safe…There's nothing I don't love about you, Gee. And I'm in so deep that I don't care if you don't really love me back, baby. I know not soon after this you'll probably have a boyfriend already waiting, but there will always be a place for you in my heart. Hell, you own it, Gee-baby. And since I'm leaving (finally, right? I bet you wished it'd been sooner. I'm so sorry) I decided I'd just let you know what I think about you and your gracious being._

_"I don't care what anyone says, especially you when it comes to this topic, but ever since you've walked into my life it's gotten better times a billion and infinity. You're my saint. My angel. Don't ever look down on yourself as anything less. It doesn't matter who you're associated with, babe. I'll always love you._

_"May God (Catholic parents, which makes me Catholic…so I guess He exists. And for the purpose of this goodbye note, He does) bless your amazingly angelic soul, as well as your selfless heart. I would say that we'll definitely meet up again in the next life, but I don't think I'd be able to meet you up in Heaven._

_"Goodbye Gerard._  
_Frankie xoxo "_

After reading the note, Dan turned to Gerard to see the man with his head in his hands. "This must've been ridiculously difficult for him to write, but he did." Gerard gave a shrug as Frank's word stung him. Unhappy with that response, Dan put a hand on Gerard's shoulder. "He did it because Gerard Way was worth it. Whether you see it or not, you did change him. He's not going to forget you."

"But…It's not even about that," Gerard admitted. "It's more about the fact that… I don't know Dan. I want him here," he complained, throwing his fist at the neatly arranged pieces of ripped and torn paper. "I won't be happy if he leaves the way he did. I'd rather be arrested and taken from him, rather than have him run away on his own. He's making me fucking miserable."

"He doesn't mean to—''

"He is," Gerard snapped, getting up from the floor as he let his fingers run through his hair. He was being extremely unfair to Dan, but he couldn't help but snap. "I…I never imagined what I'd do if he left. I…I-I always thought I had everything under control, but now…? Oh fuck it Dan!" Gerard started walking around and pacing. "I should have been meaner."

"Meaner?" Dan asked unbelievably. "Being meaner is gonna keep him?"

"He'd be too fucking scared to leave," Gerard said, stating the obvious.

"But then he would have never—''

"I don't know what I'm saying," Gerard quickly admitted, his arms falling listlessly at his sides. "But I just…Not now, Dan. Not fucking now."

Dan remained by the garbage can and picked up the pieces of paper before he rose and set the remains on the bed. He felt nothing but sympathy for Gerard. He had to admit that it sucked to be Gerard right now. Gerard was in distress, and he wasn't functioning as well as he should have. He began messing up the bed, throwing the money everywhere as well as crumpling the notes. However, when he little tantrum was over, he un-crumpled his notes, staring at them all intently. It wasn't until he got onto the last note the two of them had found that he started openly sobbing over his loss.

This wasn't his place, and he needed to leave Gerard alone. He couldn't help but feel extremely guilty for causing the man pain and possibly ruining his life, but the best thing for him to do was to leave Gerard alone at the moment. He had debated this choice other times, but now was the perfect time to let Gerard be. He even reprimanded himself for staying and reading the personal notes, even if he had been given permission to. He shouldn't have anyway. All it did in the long run was made him feel like shit.

Quietly but surely, Dan exited the room. He softly closed the door and headed downstairs back to his desk, hearing nothing but muffled sobs from Room 16.


	42. Reunion

**Reunion **

Frank hummed a small tune to himself as he finally neared the block where the motel resided. He already memorized his lines that he'd spit out if he encountered anyone with a question concerning his whereabouts. If they asked where he was, he'd just say that he went out for a walk. Why'd he leave through the window? Because he was so angry he wasn't thinking straight. There. He was done.

But the harder part was figuring what on Earth to write for that first letter, once he convinced Gerard that he wouldn't leave again and had some alone time to himself before attempting to escape once more.. He hated the one he originally wrote. There was way too much truth in that, and it bothered him tremendously. He shouldn't have admitted to Gerard that he loved him. Or should he have? Gerard obviously didn't feel the same way. It made him seem weak and pathetic. Ah, but what did he care anyway? He'd never see Gerard again. He might as well have…but just not that candidly, because he was sure the note would end up in Pete's hands, and once this was over that wouldn't end too well.

Frank's heart pounded loudly within his chest as he neared the motel. He was so close to Gerard, yet he was so far away. Either Gerard was in the motel lobby, or he was in their room. Either way he was facing Gerard again, the same person he'd be leaving soon without a verbal 'goodbye.' Hopefully, the next note he wrote would be better than the last one. He even failed to mention money amount in that, which was quite stupid of him. That would be the most important thing; the money, not his thoughts.

Frank impatiently waited for the traffic light to change before he crossed the street. Just a few more seconds before he'd see Gerard, Dan, and possibly Pete down there.

Oh, man. Frank wasn't ready to meet Pete now. His heart thudded a bit more before he pulled the doors to the motel lobby. If Pete was there, how on Earth would he write that first note all over again?

It's simple, a voice in his head spoke up. You don't.

Now that Frank thought about it, that would make total sense. He wouldn't write that first note if Pete was there. Things would actually work out perfectly that way. If Pete was there, why on Earth would Frank want to confess his undying love for Gerard? In front of Pete, who happened to be the boyfriend? Oh, no, that would not work out well at all, especially if Pete would later be in a position to 'show his appreciation' for such a letter later on.

With his heart pounding out of his chest, Frank slowly pulled on the door. Quietly, he entered the motel and met a bare lobby. If he wasn't mistaken, the place was pretty quiet and barren except for the dull sound of a conversation in the upstairs portion of the motel, which was natural for this motel. Only a couple people lived here anyway.

As he inspected the deserted ground, he made the safe assumption that Gerard was upstairs, still in Room 16. He drew in a breath as he ripped off a small piece of paper from Dan's desk, grabbing a pen and making himself at 'home.' This might've been the only chance he had to write anything. Maybe if he was quick enough, he could write and leave the money and the note here together, being as quiet as possible, before he left once more. In fact, maybe it was best to take out the money now, so this time he wouldn't forget to mention it. He already had an idea of his revised note, and he was sure he could scribble it in seconds.

'Dear Gerard. Thank you for watching over me. I'm extremely sorry for the inconvenience. Please accept this as a token of my apology. Sincerely, Frank Iero.'

Taking a wad of cash from his backpack, he began to place some money on top of Dan's desk when he heard someone's footsteps approach him. In a hurry, he jammed the cash back in his bag and turned just in time to see Dan scolding him from across the room. The look on Dan's face was one of both surprise and relief, whereas the look on Frank's face was pure shock. He hadn't expected anyone, and had assumed he'd be upstairs with Gerard.

"Where the fuck have you been?" Dan demanded, crossing his arms at a surprised Frank. He had to admit to himself that his plan sounded a whole lot easier and simpler in his head than how it was in true life, and he cursed, looking at anywhere besides Dan. Dan wasn't going to give up that easily, though. He had seen how much Gerard was hurting (partly his fault) and he was going to get these two back together. From the look on Frank's face, it didn't seem like it'd be so hard either. Frank didn't seem like his heart was 100% set in what he was doing. He could tell from the look on Frank's face as well as from the letters and notes he just read upstairs. Frank gave no solid answer but gripped his backpack tightly, hoping Dan's question was somehow rhetorical. To his dismay, it wasn't.

"Where?" Dan demanded again, his voice a hushed whisper. Gerard's sobbing could still be heard if Dan strained his ears, and he couldn't help but strain since he knew the situation Gerard was in.

"I, uh…I-I went out for a-a walk," Frank finally stammered, shifting the weight of the bag. "A walk. Y-yup, that's it."

"Only a walk?" Dan asked unbelievingly. Frank nodded and Dan rolled his eyes. Frank could understand why Dan saw through his lies. He knew wasn't putting in the effort he usually did when it came to things like this.

"Cut the bullshit," Dan demanded, pointing upstairs. "Gerard is up there crying his eyes out because you left. You didn't leave for any 'walk.' You planned on leaving him, didn't you?"

"I—''

"You're doing it to make him happy. I get that mentality," Dan interrupted, understanding Frank partially. Nevertheless, it surprised Frank he understood him a bit. "But things like that don't apply to you guys. He's extremely unhappy and depressed, Frank," Dan went on.

Is he really? Or is it all just an act to get him to stay long enough for Pete to arrive? he wanted to ask. But there was no point. He was going to have to go up and face Gerard on his own eventually. Unless…

"Could you give something to Gerard for me?" Frank asked, setting his backpack down on the floor and unzipping it. Maybe he could still make his escape. And instead of writing down that note, he could just have Dan be the messenger. Dan shook his head as soon as he understood.

"I'm not coming in between you two, but you two should make up," Dan said. Frank shot him a wary look. It was Dan, after all, who had told Gerard to give him back up. And now he was telling Frank to make nice? "I understand where you're coming from, but I'm telling you to reconsider. Don't break up over this."

"You mean I shouldn't leave for the sake of his life?" Frank incredulously asked, referring to the conversation he eavesdropped on. "Are you kidding me?"

"You love each other."

"Love has boundaries," Frank snapped back, and he heard footsteps from above. Where was all this coming from? He looked at Dan pleadingly, his snappish attitude faltering. Hearing that Gerard was in there crying over him was definitely something that had him weakened, especially since it was coming from Dan. He cursed silently to himself. He was not supposed to see Gerard, let alone speak to him except to say, "I left for a walk." If he went against this, and it was a trick…

But what reason would Dan have to lie about it? He knew nothing about their whole scenario and Pete, etc. Right? And Frank was definitely sure Dan was not a part of it. Then again, if he heeded Dan's words and saw Gerard's face—and it was true—he knew his heart would hurt too much from the sight of his angel to carry through with his plan.

"I'm not an expert in anything, Frank, but the last time I checked, love had no boundaries," Dan said, stepping toward Frank. He hoped that he was speaking loud enough to lure Gerard down here, or loud enough to keep Frank from trying to run away. Luckily for him, both worked. He could hear the doorknob rattle as Frank bit a nail, lost in his thoughts.

Love might've had no boundaries, but the law did. And if Frank didn't act now, before something horrible and unalterable happened, Gerard was going to get burned.

The door gave a slight creak (Dan was surprised that he was even able to hear it) as Frank picked up his backpack again, rummaging through. As Frank engulfed himself within the backpack, Dan thought he had won the battle. To his dismay, Frank pulled out a huge sum of money and set it on his desk. "Frank," Dan warily called as he saw Gerard slowly descend down the stairs through his peripheral vision. "What are you doing?"

"Thank you, Dan," Frank spoke, after wiping a tear. He was going to go through with this, damn it. Who knew? Maybe Gerard was crying in there because he lost Frank and now Pete would break up with him, and if that was the case, he preferred to not find out or see him right now. The best thing for him to do was to leave Dan the money to give to Gerard. "Thank you for letting us stay here. Here's $1,000. Okay?" he asked, setting it on the desk and unzipping the small compartment of his backpack. He refused to look up, because he knew Dan would reprimand him, and he didn't want to hear it. He just wanted to dump the money on the desk and then leave.

Frank heard Dan sigh as he crouched on the floor yet again to open the largest compartment of his backpack, full of $99,000 for Gerard. As he openly displayed the money, he heard a small gasp. He thought it came from Dan, and so he muttered, "It's $99,000. Give it to Gerard for—"

As Frank neared the end of his sentence, his head went up and his eyes met two figures standing before him. The sight of Gerard caused Frank to freeze completely, and he scrambled up as he held his bag protectively. Gerard was here. Oh shit…things are definitely easier said than done. Frank remained rooted to the ground, paralyzed from the shock of Gerard's presence. He was not ready for this at all.

Gerard looked awful.

"—me," Frank murmured, finishing his statement as he stood his ground.

"F-Frankie?" Gerard croaked, descending down the stairs to run down to the small boy. "Frank?"

Frank stood there and backed away slightly, only to be up against the wall of Dan's desk. Gerard met Frank in no time, hugging him tightly. Frank could hardly breathe, his head stuffed against Gerard's chest as Gerard's arms engulfed him. He could feel Gerard's soft and wet lips press against his forehead and hair as he asked between the kisses, "Where were you?"

Frank gave a small wheeze from the lack of oxygen before he pulled away, replacing his place in Gerard's arms with money from his backpack. Gerard let them drop on the floor.

"I'm not taking it Frankie," he said, shaking his head. Groaning in annoyance, Frank yanked himself away from Gerard, but to no avail. Gerard's grip on him was as tight as ever.

"I'm not stupid," Frank snapped, earning a shocked expression from Gerard as well as Dan. Dan remained in the background, but he was beginning to debate whether or not to give the couple their privacy. But it was kind of disheartening that the first words Frank spoke to his boyfriend after running away were, "I'm not stupid."

"I know you're not stupid," Gerard finally said, nearing Frank again. Frank warned Gerard, raising his index finger as he tried to back up once more. He angrily took out some more money and Gerard grabbed it from him, tossing it on the floor and creating a mess in the process.

"I know you're not stupid," Gerard repeated. "Or at least I thought you weren't." Gerard kept his iron grip on his boyfriend as he tried to calmly search Frank's face for an answer. Frank avoided his eye contact, staring at the money on the floor. "Frankie, why did you leave?"

Dan felt out of place again, so he decided maybe he'd help out a bit by picking up the money that was on the floor, gently coming between the two of them every once in a while to place the money back in its respectful place. That seemed like a time consuming job. It was scattered everywhere. Luckily, they were not right in front of the motel windows and doors, but in a more secluded area of the lobby, near Dan's desk.

Dan reached between the two of them once more before Gerard demanded, "Lower your backpack, Frank," in a hushed tone. So quiet, Dan had almost missed it. Rooted, Frank did just that. He wasn't in any position to disobey Gerard, anyway. If Gerard really wanted to, he could force Frank by the boy's small and now trapped wrists. Dan reached for the bag, to make sure it would not hit the ground directly. What if something was in there?

But as soon as the bag left Frank's hands, Gerard became a bit less physical and a bit more menacing. Letting go of Frank's wrists, he seemed to have had Frank frozen in fear, as he lightly pulled Frank's chin up. And then, with a rather harsh and brutish tone (different from the one he'd used on Frank so far), he demanded to know, "I know you heard me the first time, damn it. Why the fuck did you leave, Frank?"

He almost snarled it, but Dan couldn't say he didn't expect that. Gerard had been through many emotions in so little time. Feeling a bit like an imposer, Dan continued to pick up hundred dollar bills. If he counted correctly, he had about $2,000. At least he seemed almost halfway done with everything.

Frank's voice hitched up in his throat and his mind went blank as he tried to remember the reason he'd come up with for leaving. When it finally came to him, he stuttered, "W-walk?" Gerard gave an amused chuckle, and it scared Frank a little. He had not accounted for Gerard's reactions, and had assumed for the best.

A big mistake.

"A walk, hmm?" Gerard pondered aloud, before grabbing Frank's wrists again. "It's evening time, Frank. Since when have you gone for a walk then?"

"W-well…" Frank searched his brain wildly for an answer, any type of response. "W-w-well, since when have I gone on a walk b-by myself, l-let alone at n-n-night time?" Although he came out shaky, he continued a bit boldly, "Maybe I don't need you around."

Dan heard that and held his breath.

"Are you positive then, Frank?" Gerard finally asked, still attached to Frank's wrists. Dan could tell from the strain in his voice that he wanted to yell, scream, and throw things, but he bit it all back. "You go now, and everything I've tried to give you becomes useless. Our relationship becomes useless."

Frank found the opening he needed, the way to insult Gerard and find himself out of his hold.

"Wasn't it always?" Frank nonchalantly asked, and (for effect) yanked himself from Gerard's grasp.

Gerard's heart would have snapped in two but it was because he knew how the younger truly felt that he simply shrugged it away, motioning to upstairs. "Quit the shit, Frank. I read the notes up there…already saw the fucking cash…I know how you feel."

So that was it then, Frank noted, shrugging. Gerard had already seen those things. Okay, so now the notes referring to Mikey and Gerard's babysitting job had been discovered, the cash had been found, and Gerard was ready to send him back to Pete.

Frank started checking things in his mental inventory. Hmm. At least Gerard had admitted it, something Frank wasn't expecting (like the rest of this). As long as Gerard hadn't read that final letter, he was fine. He had only mentally prepared himself for this reality. The other-note-reality was another thing.

He was violently tugged from his thoughts as Gerard pulled him forward and toward their room. Frank tried to let his steps match Gerard's, because at the rate he was going, Gerard seemed to care about one thing and one thing only; getting Frank upstairs. It didn't matter to him how many things Frank hit along the way. Who knew? Maybe something would hit him hard enough to bring some sense to his head.

Dan shot Gerard a wary look from the lobby and shook his head, almost as a warning. Gerard caught his glimpse and tried to cool down before they reached their door. He was in control of this…the worst was over, and he had Frank back again…

Frank was muted, never having seen this side to Gerard before. There had been a glimpse of it that first night when he left his house and slept over, demanding to Gerard that he'd wanted to leave. Gerard seemed like he was ready to hit him, beat him up for uttering such words and for thinking of the possibility. But instead, Gerard had been overwhelmed by the desire to kiss him. Gerard had kept control, then to Frank's disappointment.

But now they were a 'couple' and had kissed numerous times. What would stop Gerard from kissing him now? And now that Gerard could kiss him, did it mean that he'd take it a step further? He was pretty angry. The scenario was both new and old to Frank. New, because (if Gerard was about to do what he thought he was about to do) it'd be Gerard doing this, yet old because Frank used to get this treatment from Pete all the time. He couldn't help but find the similarity striking. But what did he expect? Gerard and Pete were a couple. It wouldn't be strange to find characteristics they both shared.

Gerard lightly, this time, brushed his fingers along Frank's chin, urging him to look up before he opened the door to their home. "Frankie," he whispered, a tear making a way down his face. Then, a bit louder and surer, he repeated, "Frank."

Any past thoughts of rape vanished from Frank's mind, the tears and Gerard's defeated and broken posture before him confirming that his beliefs were purely false. A bit less rigid now, Frank backed away a bit. He still remained silent, to Gerard's annoyance, but Gerard couldn't blame him yet. He hadn't actually said anything to Frank worth replying to. Fumbling at the doorknob, Gerard finally entered the room, pulling Frank along with him.

The room was a complete mess as compared to how Frank had left it. Pillows were thrown everywhere, and the curtain was hanging on a hinge at the moment, as were the blinds. Taking a look at the corner of the room where Gerard's clothes had been, there was nothing on top of it now except for the money Frank had left behind. The floor was covered in trash (and some cash), along with Gerard's clothing and the bed covers. The television seemed like it was ready to fall off of its high ledge, and Frank could easily guess why when he saw the pile of books messily piled around it, as well as the slight crack on the screen. And, in a corner of the room on the bed, he could make out his notes.

"Why would you start throwing stuff?" Frank quietly demanded, leaving Gerard's side to check on the television and ignoring the pile of paper on the bed. He positioned it correctly before paying attention to the books below it, the items that had applied damage to the screen. "Why is this place such a mess, Gee—I mean, Gerard," Frank quickly apologized, lowering his gaze back to the ground, engrossing himself with the task of cleaning the room. Maybe this was why Gerard wanted Frank back. He cleaned all the time, and Gerard could use it to his advantage now. Maybe tidy the place up before Pete came, he guessed.

"I'll clean this up for you guys as soon as possible," he muttered, avoiding eye contact once more. His vision blurred, but he blinked the dumb tears away. Now was not time to cry, he reminded himself. He'd have all the time in the world to cry after he was back. He had to start remembering how he used to handle his problems, because that's where he was headed again.

"Why?" Gerard quietly asked, holding back a sniffle, his voice penetrating the silence in the air. He watched as Frank continued tidying the room.

"Hmm?" Frank asked, afraid to look up. He bit his tongue so that the accusations would not start flying from his lips, putting as much energy and effort into cleaning the now messy room. He grabbed and ordered the ten books on the floor, carrying over towards the side of the bed near the entrance. Gerard followed quietly behind him, grabbing his arm.

"Turn around, Frank," Gerard demanded angrily, upset and annoyed by being ignored constantly by the small boy as he switched on the light. The light blinded Frank's eyes for a moment, but he quickly adjusted to it.

"Tell me what you fucking see."

Frank continued to stay still, wondering if he was wrong about the whole rape idea. Gerard sounded pretty pissed again. And this time, they were in the room, door shut and now—Gerard had reached for it and with a brush of his fingers—locked. Frank's heart rate sped up. What did Gerard want him to say? Was it all a trap, some type of joke? If Gerard was going to rape him, Frank preferred that he just get it over with and stop the teasing.

But to humor him, Frank took another look around. When he failed to come up with an answer, Gerard nudged him forward, a bit too forcefully, until the two of them reached the bed. At that point, Gerard shoevd Frank, and Frank fell on top of the mattress. He stayed there, frozen at the aspect of yet another one of his speculations coming to life. First, Gerard's other and true boyfriend/lover turned out to be Pete, and then Gerard wanted to send him back because he was bored of Frank—his fake boyfriend—and wanted to be with the real one. And now, Gerard was going to rape him, having gotten nothing previously.

He would never betray Pete again, if he was ever sent back. It was very clear in his head now that Pete always won, no questions asked.

But Gerard didn't advance on him like Pete would have by now and instead sat on the bed next to Frank, motioning angrily at the scraps of papers on the bed. When it finally registered that Gerard wasn't about to rape him, Frank tuned in.

"…do this?"

"W-what?" he asked, sitting up.

"Take a look at the fucking note, Iero," Gerard seethed, grabbing a piece. "Do you see what you're lying on?"

His heart still beating many miles a minute, Frank grabbed a ripped piece to find his words scribbled on it in the black ink. His heart slowed down from its rampant miles per minute beating rhythm when he realized what this piece of paper was associated to.

…I love you, Gee. I've tried wracking my brain—

"No," Frank murmured, his worst fear coming true. He grabbed other pieces, only to find other remnants of the same letter.

I don't care if you don't really love me back, baby.

You're my saint. My angel.

I'll always love you.

"No," Frank repeated again in shock, scrambling away from the paper. But how…? How had he found this? It was in the fucking garbage for crying out loud!

"I'm trying to understand, Frankie," Gerard quietly said, the anger subdued. Frank could tell he was still upset, but he did not reply. "What you wrote here…was beautiful." Gerard reached for Frank's hands and Frank pulled away, ashamed.

That was when Gerard lost his cool again.

"Why the fuck would you throw this out?" he yelled, hitting the bed with his fist.

"It's garbage," Frank quietly replied, inching further from Gerard. He could've sworn he saw an eye of Gerard's twitch.

"Garbage?" Gerard spat in disgust. "Frank, what's fucking wrong with you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Frank seemed to sincerely apologize. Gerard thought he'd gotten through him, until Frank continued, "It's shit. Shit goes in the garbage. Did I clear it up now?"

"This. Is. Not. Shit." Gerard snatched up the pieces and threw them at Frank. "If you meant any of what you said, then it's not shit."

"Well, I'm telling you that it's shit, so then you should know the answer to that," Frank smartly replied, trying to keep a straight face, with his true feelings masked beneath.

"So everything…everything," Gerard reemphasized, "was just 'shit' to you?" Frank remained silent, trying to hold himself back from letting in and admitting that it was the world to him. But he couldn't hold out for too long.

"Wasn't it to you?" Frank finally asked, tears blurring up his vision. He was weak, and he knew it. He'd given in to Gerard, just like he knew he would if he allowed himself to be alone with him and hold a conversation with him. Damn Dan for postponing his leave.

It was sad that Gerard had to see Frank cry in order to come to this conclusion, but he knew he was reaching out to Frank now. Immediately relieved that he had broken a bit of Frank's protective barrier, he neared Frank and delicately questioned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know," Frank sniffled, wiping his tears away before Gerard could reach. Gerard reached for Frank's hands instead, and this time Frank didn't pull away.

"Know what?" Gerard asked, fear griping his body whole. Had he heard about Mikey while he and Dan had been conversing downstairs hours ago?

"Him," Frank said, another tear down his face. "I know who you're working with."

What the fuck?

"Frank, listen to me." Gerard tried to stop him, but Frank kept on talking over Gerard's concerned voice. This time, the tables had turned and it was no longer Gerard with the angry and threatening voice, but Frank.

"No, you listen," Frank demanded, although he didn't pull away and let Gerard hold him. "I've figured it out, okay? You…just send me back to him. I give up. Okay, Gerard? He wins, you win, I lose. I won't try this ever again."

"What are you fucking talking about?"

"I know Pete's your boyfriend," Frank continued, glaring at Gerard. "I know that you miss him, and so we should probably go back. I completely understand…just keep that last note between the two of us. No need to bring him in, right? I've learned my lesson."

"Lesson? Boyfriend? Pete?"

"Stop playing dumb, Gerard," Frank demanded. "I know. You don't have to act anymore. Just…send me back. I'll tell Pete I'm sorry."

"I'm not sending you back," Gerard insisted angrily. "Are you fucking retarded? Why the hell would I send you back there?"

"Dan thought so himself," Frank answered evenly. "It makes sense. Send me back, I'm sure you two have gotten your laugh from it."

"Me and Dan?"

"You and Pete," Frank corrected.

"There is no 'me and Pete'."

"Or are you doing this to get Pete back?" Frank asked, another possibility coming to mind as a tear made its way down his pathetic face.

"What?" Gerard stayed where he was, slightly afraid of the way Frank was acting. If he heard everything correctly, Frank thought he was in some relationship with Pete? For what? How?

"Frank, shut up and explain," Gerard demanded, but his voice came out small. What if Frank had discovered that he'd actually worked for Pete? Was that where this was all coming from?

"You can't lie to me anymore Gerard," Frank said, shaking his head.

"Where did you hear this from?" Gerard asked, his voice shaky.

"I figured it out on my own," Frank admitted, eyes red from the tears. "I was stupid to have not noticed it before."

"And what made you notice it now?" Gerard asked, sitting upright. He still couldn't wrap his head on how Frank could have figured it out…

"It just makes sense," Frank muttered, his jealousy ripping through. "He's older, better looking than me, more relatable to you, I guess…"

"W-what?" Gerard sputtered in disbelief. So what if Pete was older? Well, Gerard couldn't blame Frank for using that as a bonus feature. He had always brought up age whenever they were together…But Pete Wentz better looking than Frank? His Frankie?

"You guys are almost polar opposites, it's stupid I couldn't tell," Frank went on. "The reason why he's called you all this time, the reason why you have his number, and the reason why you answer. I get it. You miss him."

"So…if I really loved Pete to much, why aren't we back there by now?" Gerard demanded, ignoring the fact Frank just admitted to looking through his phone.

"We were headed there, weren't we?" Frank asked. "The visit to Mikey's house? I know where your true intentions are, Gerard." At the mention of Mikey, Frank saw Gerard flinch as a set of fresh tears kicked in for his 'boyfriend,' but he continued. "The reason why you answer Pete is to update him on how I'm doing, how this is carrying out. The reason why I've been out for almost 3 or 4 months and nothing's wrong back over there."

"I thought you told me your parents could go months without seeing you," Gerard interrupted.

"They can," Frank said, acknowledging his bullshit answer. But his point still held. "Doesn't stop the fact that you and Pete—''

"Look, baby—''

"I'm not your baby," Frank replied evenly. "That's Pete."

Gerard gave an angry growl before he punched the bed, startling Frank. He refrained himself from punching it again when he saw the look on Frank's face. If he kept it up, Frank would become afraid of him as well.

He was about to apologize to Frank when Frank spoke first, relaying his true fears aloud.

"I know you and Pete are boyfriends, Gerard," he spoke, a bit quieter now as the tears marked his face with paths down his adorable yet pained face. "I saw the number on your cell phone…and it finally registered with me that the 'friend' you have named Pete from work is the same Pete I…'know.' And…a-and we've never taken it a step further, Gerard. No doubt, still being a faithful boyfriend to your precious Pete. I'm not trying to blame you," Frank quickly said, wiping a tear. "I would do what you did too, humoring a stupid crush some dumb kid your boyfriend knows. A-and so the two of you t-teamed up…and then I bet the whole 'rape' story was planned, too. Everything from the beginning, and I was too stupid not to realize. Too whorish to care…"

At those words, Gerard inched towards Frank, who thought Gerard was attempting to give him a hug of some sort. But that wasn't the case, he realized, as Gerard lunged at him, attaching his lips to his own. He crouched above him, holding Frank's head ever so securely as he deepened the kiss, slightly tugging at Frank's hair. It was apparent they were not seeing things eye to eye, and he couldn't afford to miss everything based on lack of communication. If this was the language Frank spoke, then that was how they were going to do it, then. After hearing Frank voice his thoughts and after nearly losing Frank forever today, Gerard didn't care anymore. He couldn't risk losing Frank over a communication barrier. Frank had to see, and it was now or never.

Frank's arm began to tremble as he brought it between the two of them, palming Gerard's chest. It seemed like he was egging Gerard on, until Gerard felt Frank apply a pressure away. To make matters worse, it seemed as if Gerard had mistaken Frank's earlier moans as well.

"Nmm," Frank tried to say, wriggling his body and using his other hand to stop Gerard.

Gerard, despite the signs, kept kissing Frank.

Gerard had this nagging feeling loom over him, though. What if he wasn't just being paranoid, and Frank really did want him to stop? Just to be sure, Gerard pulled away from Frank's lips and started kissing his jaw, sucking and nipping feverishly. As he progressed, he heard Frank give another moan before he felt Frank entangling his fingers in his hair.

"No," he heard Frank quietly and breathlessly gasp, and Gerard pulled away from surprise.

"No?" he softly asked Frank. He'd never expected that word to come out of Frank's mouth when it came to the two of them in this situation. But he could see that Frank wasn't joking. He really didn't want this.

"I-I'm sorry," Frank whimpered, shutting his eyes. Frank felt the weight lift from above him and he gave a depressing sigh, along with a bit of anguish. This moment would have been absolutely perfect had Gerard not been with someone else, especially after this whole ordeal. Gerard probably thought him a whore, and this moment would confirm all that Pete's probably told Gerard about him already.

"You already know I'm a whore. I said so myself," Frank tried to reason with him, seeing shock on Gerard's face. He didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one. With Pete, it was a bad sign. Always a bad sign.

"Frank, I…I never—''

"Or are you going to rape me anyway?" Frank interrupted, his voice small as he curled up in a fetal position. Gerard stood there on his knees, completely taken aback.

Rape?

"I would never!" Gerard said, scared of himself now. He reached for Frank and Frank continued to remain in that instinctive position, his back to Gerard. Was that how it had seemed to Frank? If he'd been watching this unfold, would Gerard, too, think of it as rape? He'd never meant to come out that way.

Oh, dear god.

"Frank, I'm so sorry."

"I-It's okay," he said, but refused to uncurl.

"Frank, I'm not Pete."

There was no response, at least, not for a while. Then, Frank answered.

He murmured something, moving a bit. "I'm…no, you're not Pete," he seemed to reassure himself. He finally opened his eyes and saw Gerard's very apologetic face.

Even if Gerard was Pete's, he meant everything he said in that ripped up note that resided beneath the two of them. He loved Gerard regardless of where he stood in Gerard's heart. If Gerard was hurting, he was hurting.

"You're not Pete," Frank said louder, this time to assure Gerard. Gerard gave a light nod and took a deep breath before Frank continued. "Just…a misunderstanding." He could feel a tug at the corners of his mouth, and he gave into the smile forming at his lips in an attempt to cheer up Gerard. "See?" he asked, moving beside Gerard now. "I'm smiling. Don't think about it. Total misunderstanding, Gerard. I was overreacting, as usual…"

"Are we that similar, Frank?" Gerard asked quietly, the smile disappearing from Frank's face. "I reminded you of him, didn't I?" Again, there was no response. He could maybe see why Frank had strongly believed he'd been with Pete all along.

"Accident," Frank repeating, consoling Gerard. "I'm not in the best state, and neither are you. Pete's always in that state. It's like his default," he tried to joke.

"Then why on Earth would you think that Pete and I…?"

"I saw his number in your phone. That was the only explanation I could think of," Frank admitted, feeling foolish again. "And I jumped to conclusions from there…"

Ignoring the fact that Frank had somewhat found hard-core evidence of his ties to Pete, Gerard shook his head. "I love you, Frank. I'd never try and rape you…You know that, right?"

It was obvious now where Gerard's intentions were, and he felt stupid for ever thinking Gerard would rape him. "I just kept hearing the thoughts in your head, and how they were all dead wrong. I would've told you so, but we've seemed to have had communication barriers, so I thought…I thought…"

"But we don't need to do that anymore because there aren't barriers," Frank replied, giving a sad smile. He put his hand on top of Gerard's, his anger and frustration now subsided.

"I went into town today," Frank started finally. "To get more money."

"For what?"

"For that last note you weren't supposed to find," Frank replied. "The note I wrote and put inside the garbage. I even ripped it up, and you put it all together…"

"Why'd you do that?" Gerard asked softly, putting his other hand on top of Frank's. "Why'd you write such beautiful words and then toss them away like that? Especially if it meant something to you?"

"It would mean nothing to you," Frank finally answered. "That's why."

"How can you say that?"

"You already have a boyfriend. P—''

"You." Gerard squeezed Frank's hand. "I don't know where you got that stupid idea that I was with Pete, but get it out of your fucking head, Frankie. I'm with you. I'm yours."

"I'm already prepared for you to send me back, Gerard," Frank continued. "And I thought about it, because I unfortunately meant every word in that last letter, and I lo—like you so much. It doesn't matter where I stand in your heart, which works out perfectly for you when you've got a boyfriend. As long as you remember me, I'm fine—"

"Frank."

"—and then I thought I'd be seeing you anyway, since you two are a couple and all…"

"Frank." Frank immediately hushed, waiting for Gerard to speak. But Gerard didn't have anything to say. He just didn't want Frank to continue with that…idea he had in his head. Finally, when he had thought of the best way to go about this, he opened his mouth.

"You're…half right," he admitted, and he felt Frank retract a bit. But Frank was hiding his emotions pretty well again, this time looking as if he'd heard nothing. That wasn't impressive to Gerard, though. He'd felt Frank's palms sweat an ocean. Thinking it was best to explain himself, he continued. "I know Pete."

"Hm." It wasn't a question. It was the sound of defeat.

"But not in the way you're thinking!" Gerard tried to defend himself. Frank shook his head.

"What you two do is your business," Frank said, giving a small smile. But he was hurting. He had wanted them to work so much. And here Gerard was, admitting his loyalties lay elsewhere. That was okay…deep breaths, just take deep breaths…you can do this.

Gerard could see that he was losing Frank, so he frantically explained, "Remember when I told you about the prostitution…? Frankie, please listen."

"I hear you," Frank lied, looking away towards the window. Gerard was scared to continue, but he waited a moment too long and Frank broke the silence again.

"We could still keep a friendship, right Gerard?" Frank finally asked, his voice pleading. Even if he was Pete's boyfriend, they could still be friends, right? Because as much as Frank thought Gerard had chosen the wrong boyfriend, he loved the personality that was 'Gerard.' And if he lost that, he'd be extremely upset for letting Pete screw him over like this.

This Gerard realized, was what Frank was leading up to. In his eyes, the time he'd spent with Gerard was special and he'd still wanted to keep the new friendship they had built. But how could that be possible when they were more than friends? How could he watch Frank and be diminished to nothing but a friend when he was capable of so much more? The ways he wanted to please Frank weren't by innocent and friendly gestures, that was for sure.

"Frankie, I was working under Pete," Gerard admitted, ignoring Frank's question. "That's why you found his number under 'Boss'… Frankie?"

Frank's head snapped over in Gerard's direction when he heard the last sentence. Gerard worked under Pete?

"I'm so sorry I kept it from you, but I was scared," Gerard continued. "I still am," he added, waiting for Frank to give any human response, instead of staring out the window in a zoned out way. Tears threatened to fall from Gerard's eyes, but he held them in.

"For how long?" Frank finally asked, although he refused to look at Gerard.

"I stopped when I met you," Gerard truthfully admitted, holding Frank's cold hands. "I was scared you'd shut down on me if I told you before—''

"You're my friend, Gerard," Frank said, carefully choosing his words. "I'd never shut you down…"

"I don't want to be only 'your friend,' Frankie," Gerard said, watching a saddened expression take hold on Frank's face. "I want to be the best friend, your boyfriend, your lover…"

Gerard inched closer, slowly this time, and Frank remained rooted. Frank let the words sink in before he inched closer to Gerard as well. Gerard had been used by Pete, but he never let it rain on his parade. He'd have to start learning after that model. Not only that, but Frank couldn't help himself from Gerard's tantalizing offer. He knew he'd be punished for being so greedy, but he couldn't help himself at the idea of Gerard wanting to be his, of the idea that he possibly was overreacting. And maybe, with that small daring glimmer of hope, Gerard was telling the truth and he had nothing to fear. Maybe.

"Could I be the same for you?" Frank quietly asked, his cold forehead pressed against Gerard's warm one. His breath hitched up in his throat as he felt their noses bump, along with Gerard's solid and sure answer.

"You already are."


	43. Stay

**Stay**

"Our son would have turned 18 today," Mrs. Iero sadly commented, gripping her bedpost. She gave another grumble as the new car outside their household remained untouched. She had honestly believed that with the publicity on what Gerard had done to his brother, Frank would be home, or on his way now. But that wasn't the case. Even Pete had no idea where the two were, as Mr. Iero had asked him numerous times. She was starting to hate that kid. She had let the two of them be friends. Pete should have watched over Frank more than he did. But because she was convinced the two of them were best of friends, she let Frank sleep over. Well, that was it for that plan. As soon as Frank came back, she wouldn't allow him to sleep anywhere. Not even at Pete's. Pete could come here as many times as he wanted, but Frank's ass was going to stay home.

"Don't worry," her husband tried to comfort her, climbing into bed after he closed the blinds. That car that they'd bought for Frank was becoming an eyesore. "He'll be home soon. I doubt Gerard should get far. He just left, according to Pete."

"According to Pete, Gerard's threats to kill his brother meant nothing!" she snapped at her husband. Then she more subtly added, "My baby is out there somewhere."

"Frank's always been on his own," his father replied, giving it a shrug. "I've been thinking about it, and I don't think this is a big deal anymore." He watched as his wife's face twisted in outrage, but it was true. They seldom watched over Frank, and he honestly believed Frank was smart enough to know what was good for him and what wasn't good for him, especially after getting bitten by reality once Gerard raped him a few months ago. Frank would come home soon. He had faith in the Newark Police Department, unlike others. Also, he had another important thing that separated him from most: money.

Frank was coming back. It was already a done deal.

Mrs. Iero whipped her head around and almost growled. Not a big deal? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Her son was off with a dangerous person, one that they themselves introduced to him. Even if Frank was alright, how could her husband lie there, comfy in bed as their son was possibly under that harmful man's control? What if something wrong happened, like it had to Gerard's unfortunate brother? If the man could kill his own blood, what would stop him from killing off their son?

"I mean, he's always going off anyway," Mr. Iero continued. Mrs. Iero shook her head, still angry at the thought. She was aware that she was a bit more caring for Frank now that he had run off, but she never imagined that she'd be where she was now, with no son to not-give-a-shit about.

"When he was with somebody, namely Pete," she snapped. "But this time he's with a rapist and murderer. I think we have something to worry about!" Mr. Iero simply shrugged and walked over to the opposite end of the room, where his wife stood. She pulled back the blinds, far enough to catch a glimpse of the black Mercedes Benz that Pete suggested Frank would love. And she had strongly beleieved that everything would be over by now, expecting to see Frank walking down the block toward the house, toward his new car.

However, it was now officially Frank's birthday and he was nowhere in sight. He could have been dead, for all she new. And that car would remain in the driveway, forever empty.

"He's eighteen, honey." Her husband's annoying voice reached her ears and she rolled her eyes, giving an exasperated sigh. She wanted to be left alone, wallowing in her own self-pity and hate. When Frank came back, he was going to be grounded, for sure. And she would not allow Pete to come by for a couple days, just to add on to the punishment. Screw the whole thing about letting him stay over for a few nights. Pete needed to be punished, too. And then, on top of it, she swore that she would spend more time with her son, before it was too late. Before he was grown and legally decided to abandon her and this family.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," she replied, moving away from her husband when she felt his arms about to encircle her. Mr. Iero gave a slight shake of the head. His wife didn't understand what he was trying to say.

"He's eighteen, honey. Eighteen," he tried again, watching the reaction take hold. "…he doesn't have to listen to us anymore."

"What?" Mrs. Iero asked. But it wasn't because she lacked the hearing. She never actually thought about the reality of that fact. Sure, Frank was eighteen, but he was still her son. Surely that held with something, right? It had to. She was still bent on spending more time with her son. If there was no way to get him back…

"He's our son," she stressed, as soon as she thought she found a reasonable argument. Their son had run away while he was still a minor, which meant she could still bust a cap in Gerard's ass for interfering with her son's childhood. That, along with the rape charges she could get her hands on. And with the lawyer they had, they'd just dig up some more dirt on Gerard to bury him in his own crap. If she did that, Gerard would pay for messing with her son, and Frank would see that 'Ma' always has his best interest at heart, and if 'Ma' thinks he should stay home, he should. She was his mother, and if she wanted to be with her son, then damn it, she'd find a way. "Whether he listens or not, he's ours," she continued. "And he's with a criminal, possibly getting raped as we speak—''

"It's not rape anymore," her husband replied in a grim tone, staring at the clock on the wall. It was officially Halloween day, but Frank would remain seventeen for another thirty minutes or so—technically. But that didn't matter. Point was, Frank was finally eighteen. Frank could be having sex right now and he'd be considered eighteen…the thought of Gerard and his son made him visibly shudder and Mr. Iero left his wife, returning to the bed as his wife paced around their bedroom. "It would be if he didn't want…but he does. We both know that," he explained with a hint of disgust. But he thought is best to overlook the whole element of 'gay' with this wife and continued. "We have no more hold over him when it comes to that."

"Doesn't mean I have to accept it."

Mr. Iero gave a chuckle as he snuggled in the sheets, leaving his wife standing alone near the window that stood by the edge of the bed. "I thought you were ready to jump down my throat the last time I spoke about gay—''

"I have no problem if Frank is gay," she interrupted, stopping her steps. "It's the fact that he's with that man."

"Well, the police are on it," Mr. Iero said, after a loud yawn. His ease at the whole situation was annoying his wife, and she gave a grumble. "There's nothing more we can do," Mr. Iero said as he patted the empty space beside him. "Let's go. Come to bed."

"What's wrong with you?" she asked incredulously. "You're acting like everything is fine!"

"It is," he replied, still as calm as ever. She was so confused. Was there something going on that she didn't know about? "Pete knows both of these men inside out," he explained to her, continuing. "Or, maybe he knows Frank inside out, and not Gerard. But still, he has more info on both of them than we do. We have Pete. As long as we have him, Frank's fate is sealed."

"And what makes you think Pete knows it all and will bring Frank home?" she demanded, still rooted. "As far as I'm concerned, Pete's been nothing but a screw up."

"Pete is Frank's best friend," Mr. Iero responded boredly. "He'll make Frank see reason. Don't worry. I was a boy, too. Hung out with the wrong crowd once upon a time…did the same thing, leaving and running away. Frank's doing the same right now."

"Yeah, but he's doing it with a felon," Mrs. Iero stressed for what she felt was the hundredth time.

"Well, maybe Frank's a bit extreme," Mr. Iero said, agreeing. "But Pete is in the mix, and it's the same idea or concept. Frank will see, whether he does it on his own or needs a little help. It'll all just roll out. Trust me." He waited a while to hear any of his wife's comebacks, but she fell silent, pondering all her husband had said.

He seemed fairly comfortable in his skin, even though Frank had run away, was kidnapped, whatever the deal was. But if this was a little thing, why was Frank still away from home? Almost two days since Mikey's murder had been broadcast, and there was still no answer. Hadn't he seen he was on television and that the guy he had run to, or followed, was a murderer? Why wasn't he calling? What was wrong with him?

"You coming to bed?" Mr. Iero finally asked his wife. She gave a sigh as she gave in, loosening her shirt for her nightclothes.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "But I'm calling again tomorrow. I've been calling for the past five hours and got nothing at all. We never canceled his cell phone line, and his cell phone's not in his room, so…"

"You can call as much as you want," Mr. Iero said, turning over to face his wife as she entered the sheets. "Frank's not gonna pick up. He needs to see reason first, and he'll see reason soon enough. As for whether he'll see it alone or with a little reinforcement is something else. But for now, baby, just sleep." He waited until his wife entered the sheets before he ended with, "Pete knows Frank inside out. Frank should be home soon, okay?"

* * *

"So how's stuff over there?"

"I…I don't fucking know," Pete finally admitted aloud for the first time. He ran his fingers through his hair as he waited for something more to tell Sara, but he couldn't. He was so frickin' nervous right now. Days, weeks, and now months had passed by, and nothing from Frank. Nada. Gerard had given up on answering his calls, too. He thought, if anything, Mikey's death would show Gerard that he was serious and wanted Frank back. But Mikey didn't seem to hold much as as a priority in his life, which kinda sucked because Pete now had nothing to lure him back.

There was always the option of hunting down his parents, but he couldn't do that now. Gerard was gone, now, remember? No one would believe that Gerard had come back and killed his parents. Maybe he should have waited until after he killed Gerard's parents before bringing Mikey's rotting corpse to the Police's attention, so that Gerard would have the deaths of his parents marked down for him as well. But it was too late to add more victims to the list, and unfortunately, Pete was at a dead end.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Sara asked, her voice reflecting the concern she held for Pete. She had never witnessed him sound so distraught over something. He was always so cool and collected. Hearing him near the brink of tears was scary for her. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew that whatever was going on must've been pretty important to get Pete to break down. "Do you need me to come over?" she asked later, when Pete didn't respond.

"N-No," Pete assured her, nervously glancing around to see if Tina had awoken from the sound of his voice. He would have loved for Sara to come over, but he couldn't risk it. Tina was here, sleeping on the bed. If she woke up to find him with Sara right downstairs, there was the huge possibility that she would rat on him. All he needed was to vent. He could vent without Sara coming over. It was safer that way. "I'm fine," he continued. "I'm just…lost."

"Well, you must be," Sara said, trying to console him. "I've been seeing the story of that boy on the news here, and I remembered you talking about him before…I was going to call you sooner about this, but I wasn't completely sure…is it about that?"

"About what?" Pete asked, his voice wavering.

"That kid on the screen—Frank, is it?" Sara questioned. She also remembered Pete mentioning that boy back when they first met at the small store. And she remembered the 'G' name, too from that time, the one who had supposedly killed his brother before kidnapping Frank, according to the news.

"Yeah," Pete said, shaking his head. "It's out of control. I just thought I had it all under, you know? I thought that by now, Frank would be back home…"

"He'll come back," Sara said. "I'm sure he's trying everything he can to get away from that guy."

"I hope so…"

"I mean, what if he saw that monster attack his brother?" Sara went on. "I'm sure those images have shown him what that guy is capable of. Any human being would be smart enough to know they should stay away from someone like that. I would. Hell, we all would."

"I hope," Pete responded yet again. He would have wholeheartedly agreed had he not been the one who killed Mikey. And he also knew that escape from Gerard was the last thing on Frank's mind right now.

"The worst thing anyone can do to a person is scare them or betray their trust in you," she continued, "and that guy has definitely done that, ever since they met. He started off the whole relationship with rape, for Pete's sakes. Any smart person would try to get away, which I'm sure he's trying to do."

Well, he has, Pete glumly thought. He's away from me, because I'm that monster you're talking about, Sara. If you knew who I really was…

"Has he tried calling you?" Sara asked, engrossed in the conversation now.

"The line's always busy," Pete lied, and Sara replied with a thoughtful 'Hmm…'

"He's texted me back, though," Pete continued, building on top of his prior lie. "He can't afford to call me—''

"So that guy won't hear," Sara finished, nodding on the other end. "I understand completely."

The line remained silent for a while longer and Pete noticed that Tina was awakening. Due to that discovery, he began to whisper quietly. "Well, thanks a lot…"

"No problem!" Sara responded, practically yelling through the receiver. Before, it had been the right volume. But now that Tina was basically awake, her voice was too loud. He wouldn't have cared before, but after that day when Tina suspected him of sleeping with Sara (which he did) and Tina threatened to spill out everything, he'd been careful. He just needed a few things to fall into place before he'd get rid of her permanently. After Frank came back (because, let's face it; Gerard would never harm Frank), he'd find a way to get Tina fired, and get Sara hired.

"Call if you need anything else, okay?" she demanded, and Pete nodded, a smile forming at his lips. Within moments, the line was disconnected and the conversation over. He closed his phone, heading over to the bed as Tina sat up in confusion.

"Pete?" she asked, her voice a bit throaty. She shielded her eyes from the light. "Is everything okay?"

No, it's not, he wanted to say. That's what he would've said, had Sara been the one asking the question. But not when annoying-couldn't-take-a-hint Tina was asking the question. She was just always in the way, always doing things wrong, always messing up…If he hadn't felt so sorry for her, maybe they would have moved their separate ways. But after getting her the job over at the Iero's, she was glued to him. That was one mistake he wish he never made. But he hadn't been good at rejection when he first started. And apparently, as noted by his situation now, he still wasn't.

If he had things his way, he would have turned back time and made sure she understood that they were nothing but fuck buddies. That way, she wouldn't misinterpret things in the future, thinking that they were a couple. Him getting her that job at the Iero's didn't help his case too much either. He thought the cheating would speak for itself, but apparently Tina was glued on him. So glued, that she had allowed him to cheat on her and accepted him back…but pissed enough to rat on him and undo all that was done if he didn't stop cheating on his 'girlfriend,' of which none truly existed. Maybe friends with benefits…but that was the closest she could come to with him.

"I'm fine," he snapped at her, jumping into bed and hogging all the sheets. "What do you fucking think?"

Tina remained beside him, using her pillow instead to cover herself. Pete would get through this, she was sure. "Pete," she started in a comforting tone. She lifted an arm to pat Pete on the shoulder and rub his back, but he icily turned her down.

"Tina, not now," Pete growled, moving away. She quickly retreated her arm.

Fine. Pete was angry…she'd be, too, if she were in his condition. But who was that he was talking to? "Baby, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Fuck off," he snapped, angrily turning around. "You don't fucking get it, Tina. Just shut up now before I hurt you, okay?"

"Like you did Mikey?" she replied evenly, raising a brow to dare him. Pete let a chuckle escape his lips as he nodded.

"Precisely."

Tina glared at him a while longer before crossing her arms in frustration. "Pete, you haven't been this messed up since—''

"I know," Pete said, releasing his anger and frustration. "You think I don't know? I fucking know! I screwed up big time, okay? I just need to get that fucking twerp back here…him and Arthur's—I mean, Gerard's—ass!"

"You can talk to me—''

"Tina, I will never talk to you," Pete vowed. "In fact, start getting used to it, because I'm going to dump you flat on your ass soon, too."

"What do you mean—''

"Tina, you aren't…I can't…We would have never been in this mess if you did your damn job straight," he finally said, opting out of the rejection. Not yet…if he could hold it in, then he would. If not…

"I know, and I'm sorry," she apologized, inching closer once more. Pete moved back.

"Tina, I'm warning you…" He gave her a menacing look and Tina crumpled in front of him.

"You were talking to her again, weren't you?" she asked, her eyes watering. When Pete never answered, she shrieked, "Weren't you?" Pete gave a small shrug and put on a nonchalant face.

"Yes, I was," he admitted, and paused for effect before tauntingly asking, "And?"

Tina could feel the sobs begging to erupt from her throat. What did he mean by 'and'? She tried to open her mouth to speak, but all she did was wail. Pete stayed where he was, encompassed by the awkward air between the two of them.

It seemed like, to Tina, that no matter what she did Pete would block her out. She couldn't figure out how to get to him. After all this time they'd been together, each time he tried to push her farther away. Plus, he'd always had flings with people; she learned to accept that. But this Sara bitch that he kept in contact with was starting to annoy her, and she was seriously causing a chasm in their relationship. Who was the one who risked her job, life, and love for Pete? That's right, she did, not that bitch he picked up from that store. How would she make Pete see that?

Pete got tired of her cries and shut off the light, muttering for Tina to 'shut up' so he could 'get some sleep.' But her hushed sobs filled the room. She was always risking so much for him, and every time he tried to distance himself from her, running to other girls (for one) and keeping Frank as his 'toy' (for another). Those girls and Frank didn't love him. Those girls were just with him for the fucking, and Frank was just too much of a scared pussy to leave…until now. But her point still held. The reason why Pete was in half the trouble he was in now was because he kept chasing after people that he wanted to want him, but that would never work. He would never be satisfied until he cleaned his eyes and realized that Tina was the one he was searching for all along.

And if he wouldn't realize the sacrifices she made for him on his own, she'd just have to bring that up to his next girlfriend. Sara, for example, would have to be informed of the whole and true story of what Pete did and why he felt the way he was feeling. She'd have to find out about Frank, and Pete's Frank-fetish. She'd have to learn about Pete's underground job, about the people (or person) Pete killed…sure, if Sara was worth Pete, she'd understand and stay with him throughout the rest of the way, like Tina was doing, right? Unconditional love and loyalty?

Tina highly doubted that.

Because she was the only person that would ever love Pete. And if Pete had a hard time being convinced, she'd just have to take it on herself to tell Sara the package she was signing up for if she got involved with Pete. Pete was hers. Maybe she sent the wrong message by allowing Pete and Frank to fuck together, but she had only done it because she saw how happy it made Pete, and that was all that mattered to her. Besides, she had joined in on the fun a couple times. She knew for sure Frank made Pete happy, and she could care less what Frank thought when it came to Pete.

But she was sure as hell Sara wouldn't see things her way.

As Pete began to drowse off Tina settled back into the bed, daring to take some of the sheets from Pete to cover herself up. In the past, before Frank had run away, they would cuddle. But now that Frank had gone and Sara entered the picture, Hell had frozen over in Pete's heart toward her, and she couldn't stand it much longer. But if her plan went as recorded, Pete would be hers once more. No more Sara, and no more distractions. With another sniffle, Tina promised herself that before this whole thing was over, she'd make Pete see reason.

* * *

Gerard held on to Frank tightly, protectively holding his boyfriend as the reality of today was re-etched into his mind.

I almost lost him today, he couldn't help thinking, over and over again. He had almost lost hugging his live teddy bear, his soft-haired, soft-skinned Frankie. The adorable man that spent too much of his time worrying over his dumb boyfriend, who didn't deserve that much attention anyway, would have been gone from here had he not doubted himself and decided to come back to re-write that first letter…

"Did you mean it?" Gerard finally asked, breaking the silence amongst the two of them. At the sound of Gerard's voice Frank looked up, his chin against Gerard's chest.

"Hm?" he asked, after clearing his throat. Gerard continued to rub his boyfriend's back as Frank questioned, "Mean what?"

"What you said in the letter," Gerard continued, his hand running through Frank's hair. He began to play with the small curls at the back of Frank's head as he waited for a response from his doubting angel.

Although Frank had written many letters to Gerard today, he knew which one Gerard was specifically referring to. Giving a sigh, he nodded, the faint tint of a blush forming at the top of his cheeks. Any thought of what he had written in that letter immediately hindered his attempts to feel welcome in Gerard's arms again. That was foolish of him to do, no matter what anybody had thought. Once those words were written down and read by the person they were meant for, there was no taking them back. He felt so vulnerable, yet he was experiencing a new sense of vulnerability as compared to how he felt around Pete, and he didn't know what to make of it. The best response he could muster was an embarrassed shrug.

"You know, I meant it when I told you I loved you the other day," Gerard went on, beginning to slowly rock Frank back and forth. Frank still had no response, so Gerard continued, "And I meant it today, too."

Frank gave another silent nod as he felt Gerard kiss his forehead, waiting for Gerard to go on. He had a feeling this was leading somewhere, and he wasn't going to like it.

"I…I love you so much Frank," Gerard continued, and Frank looked up at his boyfriend in anticipation, many scenarios running through his already pessimistic mind.

I love you so much Frank, but I promised Pete I would—

I love you so much Frank, but it wouldn't be fair to drop Pete on his ass—

I love you so much Frank, but Pete's my first love—

So many things. There were so many excuses Gerard could come up with to reject him now, and he knew it. He couldn't hate Gerard for them either, because they were all legitimate. Maybe Gerard had fallen for him after he had kidnapped him for Pete. And for some reason, he couldn't completely shake the idea that Gerard and Pete might've still been together. It was completely believable. Gerard and Pete could have had a romance during their time together. If he wasn't mistaken, that was what happened between Pete and Tina.

Gerard took a deep breath, holding onto Frank tighter as he continued. "A-and…just know that I'm not doing this or saying this wanting to hurt you, okay?" Gerard asked, a tear coming to his eye as he thought about his dead little brother and the fucker that killed him. He tried to reassure Frank when he saw Frank's already widened eyes, his mouth already open in shock.

I knew it, Frank thought to himself, slowly closing his eyes in defeat, and closing his slightly opened mouth. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it…

Gerard cleared his throat and tried to finish his sentence.

"…but—''

…but I promised Pete I would—

…but it wouldn't be fair to drop Pete on his ass—

…but Pete's my first love—

"—Mikey's dead," Gerard finally said, his voice scratching his throat. He hadn't said that aloud many times, if at all, and to hear him say it and admit it to Frank was like going through the whole experience again. Frank would be hurting, taking the blame. And once Frank was hurting, Gerard was hurting. Gerard was already hurting, since it was his brother that he was talking about. But he knew this was the only way to make sure that Frank understood what he was trying to say in the long run.

"Wh-what?" Frank barely managed to whisper, pulling himself from Gerard's firm hold. But from the look on Gerard's face, he knew this was no set-up, and his boyfriend was telling the truth. His throat closed up, threatening to keep him silent. He took a few breaths before he could ask, "B-but…how…?"

"Um…" Gerard gave a sniffle, trying to stay strong for Frank so Frank wouldn't flip out. "I, uh…he was killed, I guess," he finally answered, after another sniffle. He quickly wiped his eyes, trying to keep them dry before Frank caught sight of them, but he was too late.

Tears spilled from Frank's clouded eyes. He didn't even need to ask who was responsible, because he knew there was only one reason why Gerard would bring that up now.

"You're…you're all I have left, Frankie," Gerard spoke when he saw Frank was finally making the connection. Frank shook his head, denying the statement. He tried backing away, but Gerard's hands found their way around his wrists once more, firmly restricting Frank.

"Gerard, no," Frank whispered when he couldn't shrug away anymore, tears streaking his face. Mikey was truly dead? Gerard's caring and somewhat humorous brother, gone? Because of him "Pete…?" Frank barely mentioned, and Gerard let a sob escape his throat while he nodded.

"I love you, Frank," Gerard explained to him, engulfing Frank in a hug. Frank numbly hugged back, the tears flowing as he remained silent, stunned by the harsh reality.

Gerard's significant other source of love was gone, obliterated by Frank's own demon Pete. And there was nothing Frank could do to heal Gerard's heart. He felt so useless and so guilty for thinking Gerard would ever associate himself more with Pete than he had admitted.

"You're all I have left, baby," Gerard cried, feebly explaining why he brought up the grim reality as his sobs rattled his chest. His parents were out of the equation a long time ago, replaced by Mikey and Frank. And now there was no Mikey, leaving Frank the sole owner of Gerard's heart. If there was no Frank, there was no life.

And he had been so close to losing his life today.

Frank remained by Gerard, hugging him tightly in return. The hate he had for Pete instantly mounted. He had killed someone. That was a bit over the top, even for a guy like himself. And what made it worse was that he had killed Gerard's brother.

"Do...d-do they know...?" Frank asked, cradling Gerard's head. Gerard gave it a light shake. "No?" Frank incredulously asked, disrupting the smooth rocking movement for a moment. "Then…then who…?"

"You were right, okay?" Gerard replied, bringing his face from the crook of Frank's neck. The sight of such a broken Gerard made Frank's heart pour, more than it already was. "We…this won't last so long, Frankie. We won't last long. I'm n-now a wanted sex offender, kidnapper, a-and now m-murderer."

"I'm sorry—''

"It's—It's not about being sorry, Frankie," Gerard interrupted him, his face still stained with prior tears as well as fresh ones. "It's about the fact that this will be over in a matter of weeks…two, at the most baby. Less than a month, less than a fucking month. And then you'll be gone. I'll lose everything, and I was so close to doing that today...but you came back. I don't know what'll happen when you can't or won't come back..."

The despair in Gerard's voice was something Frank was not used to hearing, and it scared him. Usually, he was the one that needed consoling. But now the tables were turned, and Frank was completely useless, feeling shitier by the second. Gerard wasn't meaning to make him feel that way intentionally. Frank had refused to simply believe Gerard meant it 100% when he said that he loved him, so Gerard had to find another means, obviously opening up a personal wound for the sake of communication.

Mikey's death was Frank's fault as much as Pete's. If there was anything he could do for Gerard, anything at all…

"Just…stay," Gerard pleaded, slightly pulling further away so he could see Frank's beautiful face. His held Frank's cheek by the palm of his hand, using a thumb to brush away a stray tear. "Don't cry, love," he crooned, tears coming down his own face. Frank couldn't help but let a few more escape as Gerard unselfishly (yet again) put Frank's well-being over his own. Clearly, Gerard was in a worse-off state than Frank was, but Gerard didn't see that.

"I'm so fucking sorry." Frank mumbled the only thing he could think of at the moment. "I…I love you, Gee. But this is—''

"Then let me love you," Gerard softly demanded, using the same thumb to wipe away another droplet from Frank's beautiful face. His nose neared the young man's own, gently rubbing Frank's cheek for comfort. Frank immediately relaxed into Gerard's touch, closing his eyes as he bit back a sniffle. "Forget it all, Frankie," Gerard elaborated, his lips moving against Frank's other cheek while his eyes remained closed. "It's us against the world babe, only you and me..."

Frank couldn't help but feel guilty when his voice hitched in his throat from having Gerard whisper in his ear in that scratchy, convincing, and alluring tone of his. He felt even more ridiculous when he caught himself reacting to Gerard rubbing his own cheek against his, emitting soft whimpers. When Gerard had asked for Frank to let him 'love him,' he surely meant it in another, innocent way. If Gerard should move in for a hug now, he'd feel Frank's growing boner and become disappointed in Frank as well, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I-I—''

"Shhh," Gerard gently instructed, leaving small kisses along the outline of Frank's neck. Frank relaxed a bit more when Gerard shifted closer and he could feel that Gerard was feeling the same way he was, a boner on and ready in Gerard's case. Gerard was ready to make love to Frank, ready to claim Frank as his own. Frank already did with him, owning his heart and soul. He wanted to show Frank just how fucking important he was, even more so now that Mikey was gone and time was now limited. He had seen the reaction he was hoping for from Frank, but Frank had tried to withhold it, giving no reaction whatsoever. It was only until Gerard neared him and let Frank feel his boner that Frank relaxed. Yet, the young man still seemed a bit confused to his boyfriend, as to whether he should stay and advocate this behavior, or leave.

Frank couldn't leave, his body glued to Gerard's soft and inviting lips. All he wanted to do this moment was to make Gerard as happy as possible, and if Gerard kissing his neck made him happy, so be it. If Gerard 'loving' him made him happy, Frank would go for that, too.

Luckily enough, Gerard already knew that and used it to his advantage. There was one small part of Frank, Gerard knew, that would try and stop the two of them from going any further. And there was that second part that would just agree to let the two of them interact. With Frank's silent battle with himself in mind, Gerard removed his lips from Frank's neck to reveal the hickey he'd been working on. Frank gave a light shudder as a response, and Gerard lovingly stroked the bottom of Frank's chin before he uttered the words that would seal their fates.

"Just stay with me," he demanded, his lips lingering above Frank's as he kept a firm hold on his boyfriend. Frank opened his eyes halfway, letting Gerard's voice as well as his current mood and mindset get the better of him. He barely tilted his head upwards and their lips brushed by one another's, Frank's heartbeat pounding against his chest as Gerard moved in for the kill. Slowly, yet surely, Frank was brought underneath Gerard's body, waiting for Gerard's next set of instructions to suck him, fuck him, please him. But instead, his ears were met with Gerard's pleas to 'love him' and Frank ultimately did, pulling Gerard's face to his.


	44. As Long As You Love Me

**As Long As You Love Me**

"Please, Frankie."

The sound of Gerard's insistent voice caused Frank to moan into the second kiss, giving in to the older man's wish once more. He wasn't pushing Gerard away now, like he had when Gerard had first made the move earlier today; instead, he was pressing himself against Gerard. Frank needed him and Gerard was willing to accept that now. Sure, Frank felt like he was a fucking greedy parasite, potentially further ruining this man's life for a fuck, and taking advantage of the man after learning about his now dead (thanks to him) brother. However, one thing was for sure; there was nothing else that the two of them wanted more than each other.

And just so Frank knew that he wanted this just as much, Gerard tried to take the innocent kiss a step further. Frank's heart sped up faster as he felt Gerard's moist tongue prod at his lip-ring, begging for entry. Gerard was eventually granted entrance, and took advantage of the situation, his tongue hungrily massaging Frank's own.

Though, Frank didn't quickly respond, still preoccupied with the things at the back of his mind. He couldn't help but be a little worried about the outcome, after having been in something similar to Gerard's situation many times before. It was obvious to Frank that Gerard wasn't in his regular state of mind. He'd been in this position many times with Pete, and because Pete had been greedy and he (Frank) had been a little out of whack, he had woken up the next day feeling used. He didn't want to do the same to Gerard.

But Gerard didn't understand the sudden confusion and sluggishness of Frank's actions, and he disappointingly pulled back, thinking of it as rejection. In a sense, it was, but not for the reasons he might've thought.

"I'm doing it again," he concluded, licking his lips as he avoided Frank's sympathetic gaze. Boy, did he feel like a pedophile now. For the second time today, Frank had withdrawn. "I'm reminding you of him again, aren't I?" Gerard angrily asked, although the anger wasn't directed at Frank, but more to himself.

He couldn't do anything fucking right. The one thing he had left didn't want him now, because he was too close to his past demons. Hell, he had been associated with Frank's past demons. He was slightly surprised and lucky that Frank even remained in the same room as him. But maybe asking this from Frank was excessively much, and he was pushing it.

"It's not you, babe," Frank tried to explain, nervously biting his lower lip as he reached for Gerard. He realized he shouldn't have uttered those words as soon as they left his mouth. They sounded so overused, but he meant it. It wasn't Gerard. It was himself. He let his tongue play a bit with the ring located by the edge of his lip before he looked up at his boyfriend, who was now confused as well as mad.

"It is me," Gerard heatedly countered back. "It's me, it's always me!" He retracted himself from Frank's attempt at the timid embrace as he waved his arms around. Frank tried to make a grab for Gerard's hands to keep him quelled, but he failed.

"Don't touch me, Frankie," Gerard warned, shaking his head as he raised his index finger, his self-pity shining through as he advised his boyfriend for his safety. He tried to play strong on the outside, but it was becoming harder with every breath. Gerard's emotions were now blended up and mixed together. They were no longer fit in the puzzle like he had forced them to, and they were now incoherent in his own mind. He didn't know what to say or how to react. Nothing made much sense anymore, and the only thing that kept replaying in his mind was Frank's voice from earlier today, and Frank's reaction now. He always played in control around Frank, but he couldn't this time. He was only human. He wasn't fucking Superman, that was for sure. And even if he were, Frank was his kryptonite.

"If it bothers you that I'm too much like him, don't fucking touch me," he snapped, backing away angrily.

Frank watched as Gerard publicly displayed his frustration, angrily punching at the bed and growling incoherent obscenities directed at himself. Even though it was apparent that the anger Gerard had was self-hatred, it clawed at Frank's heart to witness this. Gerard's outburst held so much venom in it as well, slowly sinking into Frank's being. He could hear how much Gerard hated himself right now, all because he (Frank) was scared of actually moving to the next step, and was finding little excuses along the way. To further imagine just how messed up Gerard had been when he had left for the small period of time was also disheartening. He couldn't stand to see him hurt like this now, and Gerard was 'restraining' himself. But what about before, when he wasn't and completely lashed out, hence the crack on the television screen, pile of books on the ground, and complete disorder in their room…?

Frank made a bold move, shuffling over to Gerard in an another attempt to ease and cool him down. He felt Gerard shudder underneath the grip of his hands on his shoulder, and the older man stopped attacking the bed for a split moment before shrugging Frank off. But Frank was determined to pick up where they left off. Finally they were going on, and now that he could see the end in sight, he had frozen up. Very typical of him. But he had to move on. They both wanted this, they both needed this, and now was not the time for self-doubt.

"Frank, I'm sorry but…we shouldn't." Gerard swiftly moved away, his boner proudly displaying itself against his jean pants. However, Gerard was anything but proud at this moment. He was so close to taking advantage of Frank again, only this time Frank was less forceful with the rejection, probably out of pity for news about the loss of Mikey.

At least, that was what he managed to coherently understand through the rest of his jumbled feelings and emotions. There were many. If Gerard had waited another second more, he would have come up with another response completely different than the one he just uttered.

Instead of Frank nodding and agreeing like Gerard hoped he would, Frank glared at him. "What do you mean 'we'-fucking-'shouldn't'?" he snapped, holding Gerard's wrist tightly. Gerard gave him a depleted look. Wasn't Frank the one who wanted to stop in the first place, hence the hindrance?

"Frankie, there's a time and place for everything," Gerard slowly explained with his new mindset. He tried to fit the broken jigsaw pieces, with glue this time. He had to stick by it, and ignore whatever urges he had to mess with Frank. Today's two incidents worked as his 'glue,' and proved to be strong convincing evidence that Frank had lost sexual appeal and desire of him. It was final and set in Gerard's mind as he bit back an annoyed and frustrated groan, no doubt a reaction from another part of his mind. No sex today, and no sex ever. Fine. Fan-fucking-tastic. He could live with that, not being good enough for Frank. He was never good enough to begin with, but at least then he had more of a chance.

"And we're in it," Frank replied, annoyed as he shifted forward. His voice brought Gerard back from his self-battle. Frank's touch jolted Gerard, disturbing and disordering his assembly of ready jigsaw puzzle pieces to be set in. "Besides, a second ago—''

"I would have taken you…" Gerard interrupted, already set on ignoring Frank. He limply continued his statement as he mentally tried to fix what it was he planned to do, before he did something the both of them would regret. "…Without proper consent."

"'Without proper consent?' What is this?" Frank asked in disbelief, his voice raising. "I kissed you, didn't I?"

"I remind you too much of him, Frankie," Gerard finally repeated, shaking his head. "If we…I don't want this to be unbearable for you because I remind you of some…monster."

"You can never remind me of a monster," Frank said in awe, a hand reaching to gently cradle Gerard's cheek. "How can you even think about ranking—''

"I'm not having sex with you Frank," Gerard spat out, and the look of compassion was washed from Frank's face, quickly becoming a look of irritation and hurt. Gerard felt bad for stinging Frank like that, but he needed to be harsh. He knew the longer Frank spoke and the more he heard that angelic voice of Frank's, he'd give in to his urge.

By giving in to his urge, though, he'd be beating Frank down wouldn't be surprised if Frank let him screw Frank because poor little Frank would feel obliged, as if to make up for something he lacked…and in Frank's eyes, Frank felt his being lacked a lot. Always. Which was why Gerard was doing the right thing to avoid intercourse…along with the fact that Frank didn't want it.

That was one thing Gerard had wanted to change before their time together was up. And now that the tables were turned and Frank 'wanted' the sex, they would be back at square one. That was how he'd succumbed to Pete's madness and believed the shit Pete had uttered then, hadn't it? He couldn't win Frank the same way.

Frank, on the other hand, was pissed, clearly unaware of Gerard's thoughts. "You didn't care five seconds ago," he pointed out, obviously fuming as he crossed his arms.

"That was before I knew who I reminded you of," Gerard snapped back. "What's wrong with you, Frankie? Do you like getting hurt? You like the pain, the anguish?"

"You're not hurting me," Frank reiterated, hitting the bed. "At least, you weren't." But he was now, Frank wanted to add.

"Then please do tell me why you were uncomfortable," Gerard said, crossing his arms as well. Frank felt himself blush a bit from nervousness. Apparently, Gerard knew him better than he thought, and the older man's attitude change wasn't as random as he'd hoped. Damn him for letting his mind wander. He was only hesitant for one moment, and here Gerard was, dissecting the act. He should have known Gerard better. He did, but he still couldn't help thinking for Gerard's safety and well-being.

"Whoever said I was?" was all Frank could think of to reply.

"I know, Frankie," Gerard said. "I can read you like a fucking book."

"All I said was that it 'wasn't you,'" Frank said, defending himself. "And even then, it was in response to something you said."

"Because of something you did. I'm not fucking retarded, Frankie. I've lived with you for three and a half months now," Gerard said, closing his eyes in annoyance. "You're lying to me, and I know this has to do with Pete." There was a brief silence before Gerard continued with, "Tell me I'm lying."

Frank couldn't bring himself to say 'No.'

"I fucking told you I know!" Gerard answered the silence, glaring at Frank. He wasn't mad at Frank personally, but more upset at himself for letting his mind get that far and think so ahead about himself and Frank moving on to a higher level. Thinking maybe that he could go ahead and have sex with Frank, and that Frank wouldn't mind…he was such an idiot.

"Then you would know that the reason I was so slow was because…" Frank gave a small gulp before he bit his lip ring once more, trailing off mid-sentence to see Gerard appear to be a little bit willing to listen—actually listen—to him again. He wanted to make sure Gerard was taking him seriously, so he lifted his head and looked Gerard straight in the eye as he continued his statement. "…because I was reminding myself of Pete," he finally finished, a deep blush forming. Gerard sighed, obviously dismissing that claim and Frank went on, trying to defend himself again.

"Sure," Gerard said, rolling his eyes. "Okay, whatever."

"I…I don't want to take advantage of you, babe."

"How the hell are you taking advantage of me?" Gerard asked, writing it off as Frank opened his mouth to further explain. "No, Frank. I'm asking for it. I want us to. But I understand if you're not ready. And even though it's fucking killing me right now—I won't lie to you now—it's the right thing to do I'll wait for you, if that's the case—"

"No!" Frank interrupted his boyfriend, sadness in his eyes and sorrow in his voice. "I…I want us to, too. Please, Gerard…"

"Then, goddamn it Frank, what do you want from me?" Gerard asked, agitated by his boyfriend's confusing actions. Frank was driving him crazy with his indecisiveness. They seemed to be into it, the whole 'let's make love' thing—or maybe it was just himself, Gerard couldn't tell with all the lust and love in the way—and then Frank was hesitant…again. He was hesitant in an area where hesitancy wasn't allowed, at least not for this. He wanted to make love to Frank. If he really wanted to go forward, there would be no hesitancy, not unless something was wrong.

But what was wrong?

He was at the end of his rope. His energy was drained from self-restraint, morality, and respect of Frank enough not to do what many others would have done from the beginning. And now, he was becoming more deluded and controlled by his hormones and adrenaline by the second. Along with the new mix of emotions and frustration Frank had recently built within him, Gerard wanted to succumb to what others probably would have done a long while ago. Part of him wanted to fuck his boyfriend numb, dig his nails deep into Frank's back hard enough to draw blood, and hear Frank's screams of pleasure…or pain. It depended on his mood and if Frank was willing or not…Maybe bang his head against the bedpost, while he was at it…

He could imagine the screaming now as he closed his eyes tightly, shaking his head as he wished this didn't happen and that he'd never advanced on Frank to start with. Then they wouldn't be here right now, and he wouldn't have allowed those thoughts to run through his head like that, thinking of acts so dangerously close to Pete's own…

But as he felt Frank's hand cover his own and he looked into Frank's concerned eyes, he wanted nothing more right now than to make absolute and passionate love to him, completely motivated to get the message of his love across once more. As he suspected he would, the sight of Frank's concerned yet saddened orbs made him melt. He was a sweet sight to see, biting his lower-lip in worry. What if Frank meant it? Did he truly want them to make love as well? And was his only fear about how his actions mirrored Pete's, in his eyes?

How fucking sweet of him…

For the umpteenth time in that moment alone, Gerard's mind had changed, rotating a complete 180-degrees. Gerard felt more love and adoration for Frank than he had previously that day, and he wanted to make love to his boyfriend until Frank's eyes rolled back, his legs tightly wrapping around Gerard's waist as he uttered sweet moans that would fill Gerard's ears, and soon the air around them. Gerard wanted Frank to quiver from all the love he felt for him, tremble at how great such a feeling could be, and learn that he was worthy of such a thing, despite the shit Pete told him and put him through. That he, Frank Iero, was the love of his life, and bringing him the ultimate happiness that had him convulsing in pleasure and bliss was something Frank was worthy and far more deserving of than anyone on the fucking planet.

Gerard stopped breathing, his internal mental factory shutting down in the wake of his sudden mood change. The glue he was using to fix himself up had failed. It failed as soon as Frank pleaded for them to continue and let Gerard know that he wanted the sex…the look in his eyes called out to Gerard. If he was lying, then Frank was a pretty damn good lier and actor, because he fell for it. How could he stay mad at Frank for that act if Frank hadn't meant it? And how could he put his scheme together when he learned that his glue was faulty?

There was no need for the glue, Gerard had realized. His train of thought had become more focused than it had when they'd started. All he had to do was listen to Frank, feel Frank's soft hands over his callous and hardened ones, look into Frank's mesmerizing eyes, and let things go on from there. Frank could figure out things on his own, so there was no need for Gerard to be so protective of him anymore. He was sure that if he was doing anything Frank didn't want, Frank would stop him. All Frank really did was hesitate a bit, registering the moment and letting it sink in…he shouldn't have bitten his head off for that. Like Frank pointed out, he did eventually kiss him back.

But it was his hormones—his fucking hormones—and his want, and need…and the anger for something that never really occurred turned his wants and needs to a whole other perspective…

If he just cooled down and thought about what Frank was saying…or trying to say…he would have seen past his hormones, like he had now, and seen the young man—his boyfriend—that he wanted to make love to earlier. The same worry-wart that always had Gerard first in mind, and last out of it. The boy that clung on to him without judging, and the boy that still clung on to him without judgment although he knew it all. The boy that was his, and hopefully learning that he was worthy of love, even if Gerard's was a bit under-rated compared to the other people Frank could have chosen.

"Baby," Frank nervously started, biting his lower lip as Gerard sat silently in front of him. Gerard's eyes flickered over to Frank as Frank continued with his confession. "I…I want you so much, babe, I do. But, I couldn't live with myself if I…I can't take advantage of you—''

"You're not," Gerard interrupted him, gently reaching for Frank's wrist. Frank remained still, letting Gerard gain control of his hand. He wasn't sure of what Gerard planned on doing, but he decided that whatever Gerard was going to do, he'd take it. Whether Gerard was going to take it and strike him or take it and kiss him, he'd accept it. Why? Because he passionately loved Gerard. He knew it was something Gerard would scold him for, had he been able to read his current thoughts, but he couldn't help it. Yes, Gerard would be able to abuse him at his will, just like Pete had if he let himself continue to think this way, but Gerard was different. Frank knew he wouldn't. And if he did, there would be a good reason for it, knowing Gerard…If Gerard hit him, it was because he deserved it. In fact, he badly wished Gerard would hit him now, take out the anger and pain and frustration on him.

He was doing it again, going back to a form of his mentality with Pete, and he was aware of it. But he was doing it for different reasons. With Pete, he just blandly accepted the torture because of his hopelessness. With Gerard, it was because he loved him and wanted to make him happy so much and so badly that he'd allow things to get that far. The feelings were polar opposite, but the result was the same thing; he was willing to take the abuse. If that's what it took for Gerard—and only Gerard—to want him again, he'd go through.

Luckily for Frank, Gerard began to slowly kiss his boyfriend's knuckles, inhaling every inch of Frank's being…at least, from the hand and up. "I thought I told you to love me, no?" Gerard asked, interrupting Frank's thoughts. Frank nodded as his breath hitched in his throat, and Gerard continued kissing the young boy's fingers and knuckles.

"I…y-you d-d-did," Frank agreed, stammering. His heart beat rapidly sped up to its prior rhythm as Gerard's mouth traveled up his arm and onto his neck.

Gerard was ashamed of just how much he let his emotions get in the way. Had he just relaxed, the puzzle pieces would have fallen together perfectly…like they just did a few seconds ago. He was worried for a moment that it was his mind mixed up together again, and that in the next second he'd want to badly fuck Frank's brains out once more. But the feeling stayed, and he smiled into his boyfriend's neck, emitting a sigh. Everything would be alright if he just took it slow…maybe he'd been too fast, and his brain and body were not on the same level…

Once the older man's body was in close proximity, Frank held on to him, a hand behind Gerard's neck as he firmly encouraged the act of Gerard's teeth against his him.

"And so here we are," Gerard purred, nibbling Frank's skin. "Unless…you don't want to, Frankie?"

"I-I do," Frank breathed, giving a light shudder. Apparently, Gerard was on board with them continuing, much to Frank's pleasure. He wasn't going to screw things up again and delay.

"I haven't scared you off?" Gerard asked, his nibbling slowly turning into bites, and the hickies slowly revealing Gerard's teeth marks. He swiftly advanced on Frank, pinning the young boy beneath him as his mouth ravaged Frank's inviting neckline.

"God, no," Frank whimpered, grasping on to Gerard.

Frank continued to grip him as Gerard kept biting him, sweet quiet cries escaping his lips. Gerard lightly groaned and he began to multi-task, his hands already at work in Frank's hair as well as on his ass.

Just knowing that Gerard's fingers were mere inches away from his entrance made Frank bite back a moan, and he leaned back as Gerard cupped his ass with one hand. Gerard pulled Frank's head back with the other as he comfortably positioned himself between Frank's slow yet surely widening legs.

Frank made a small sound as he started rubbing himself against Gerard, taking Gerard's actions and current position as the official 'okay.' They were going to go through with it and make love once and for all. Frank, for one, was ecstatic. Yeah, he was obviously ecstatic that he would finally be 'bound' to Gerard, but he also was pleased that they could go through and keep Gerard's innocence.

Gerard grasped onto Frank, lowering himself completely as he grinded heavily against Frank. He couldn't keep the grunts from escaping his mouth as well as Frank had been able to, which slightly fazed him. Was he not humping Frank hard or fast enough? Or was there lack of satisfaction on Frank's part because they still had on their clothes?

Smoothly, Gerard quickly released Frank's head, working on Frank's denim pants instead. Once the button was undone, he used both hands to pull Frank's jeans off, groaning into Frank's narrow stem. Bringing his hands from Frank's base, he yanked off the material while Frank eagerly helped him, kicking it off. Gerard threw the clothing on the floor before attending to Frank's underwear.

"T-take it o-off," Frank whispered, shutting his eyes tightly after receiving another nip from Gerard.

He wasted no time, his hands preoccupied with Frank's middle being as he removed his teeth from Frank's skin and onto other parts of the boy's body. He shifted down Frank's body, making Frank bite his lower lip as he fought the urge to buck his hips from desperation of relief to his member. Gerard had wanted to leave hickies on Frank's chest, but that would be hard with Frank having his shirt on him, now wouldn't it?

Gerard grabbed the hem of Frank's shirt before swiftly removing it from the boy beneath him. Frank immediately froze, diffidence taking over. His chest, his fucking stomach, was covered in past scars. Stupid marks Pete had given him, forever embedded on his skin, forever a part of him. Frank couldn't go through with this. It was even more obvious that Gerard was taking someone's left-overs, and Gerard deserved to have someone whole and worthy. Not damaged goods.

Gerard didn't hinder his movements at all, and let his lips linger over the past wounds, sucking feverishly. Frank whimpered from shame and embarrassment, but Gerard continued to cover him with affectionate kisses. These were battle wounds, and Frank should have embraced them. Those scars were now a reminder of what happened to him before, and what would never happen to him again. Not while Gerard was here, and not if Frank actually took something from their experience, no matter how short.

Frank's breath hitched in his throat as he felt the tremor of Gerard's groan echo through his chest. Gerard was still here, kissing him, regardless of the blunt and obvious truth. And despite the sorry fact, he was still able to make Frank shudder from pleasure. Frank tried to suppress the urge to relieve his groans, no longer feeling as if he deserved to, but he lost some control after he felt Gerard's lips on his left nipple. He bucked up against Gerard's lower stomach and weaved his hands through Gerard's black hair, silently promoting the act. Gerard persistently sucked at Frank's nipple, still unbending with his desire with adamant use of Frank's vocals. Gerard nipped him, to which Frank choked back with a whine, before finally ridding Frank of his underwear.

Frank couldn't fucking believe that this was happening. He was underneath Gerard and about to be fucked, despite his evident flaws. That was what making love was, right? Fucking? Except fancier name, he guessed. At least, that's what Pete had said. And right now, he had no one else's word to go by than by Pete's own, no matter how wrong or right he was.

Besides, the stupid name battle was the least important thing at the moment. What was more important was how fucking expert Gerard was, making him cry out from touching him the right way in all the right places at the right time. It was foreign to him, custom to being used. Sex was meant to be un-pleasurable and silent for him, but great for the 'other.' That was what he'd learned during his few 'times.'

In spite of that, it was the idea of sex that called out to him with Gerard. No matter how un-pleasurable it was to be, the fact that he wanted Gerard to give that to him was the ultimate sacrifice for intimacy. The idea of allowing another person and trusting that person with your body was what Frank took away from sex, which was why he'd wanted Gerard so badly. And allowing someone that power was what satisfied them—sexually, at least. Pleasure was a one-way street when it came to intimacy, and that was all Frank wanted Gerard to have.

Of course, there was something wrong with Frank. There had to be. Because moves and actions Pete had pulled on him before were now being executed by Gerard. Yet those very same actions that made him writhe in displeasure were the ones that made him shudder in bliss today. He was actually feeling the rumored enjoyment. How could that be? Both he and Gerard couldn't be satisfied at the same time, could they?

Sex wasn't like that. And sex didn't involve involuntarily moaning on his part, either. And because of that, he was reluctant to let everything out. He was nervous—scared, even. What if he wasn't supposed to feel this? What if his enjoyment took away from Gerard's own? What if Gerard was supposed to be the only one receiving the pleasure, and he had screwed it up, finding some twisted way to enjoy himself? How fucking selfish would that be?

Maybe he'd just keep quiet, then…if he could. Keep it a secret, maybe, that he was enjoying it, when it was clearly meant for Gerard to enjoy alone. Even if he had allowed himself to enjoy this novel intimacy, not all of his habits had to die off as quickly.

Frank had some willpower left in him, although it was quickly diminishing, and he was sure that any moment now he'd cave in to his desires and beg for more. But as of now, he was rather proud of himself for his self-control. Because if he had none, he would be moaning obscenities at Gerard with the way Gerard's lips found their way back to the other side of his neck, the way Gerard's teeth continued to sink into his skin, and with how delicately Gerard now held and massaged his balls, being sure to avoid his throbbing member.

Instead, Frank let out a shocked gasp. His hands directly went for Gerard's shirt in hopes of removing it before working on Gerard's trousers. But to do so, Frank raised himself up on his elbows, a move Gerard disagreed with.

"You're not supposed to do any work, Frankie," Gerard spoke, his hoarse voice full of devotion for the boy as he let his jeans slide off his legs. "Tonight is your night." He kept the underwear on, despite Frank's efforts, and pinned Frank back against the mattress. He began attacking the base of Frank's neck once more, nibbling at Frank's sweet spot as he widened Frank's legs and fondled his penis yet again.

"You still have on—Oh God," Frank gasped, arching his back as one hand held Gerard's head and the other grabbed on to the sheets. He began to inhale deeply, not wanting to give way to panting. That would create noise, and noise wasn't good.

Well, it wasn't good when you were with Pete. But you aren't. You're with Gerard now, and it all feels so fucking amazing, Frank told himself at the back of his mind. Still weary of his thoughts, however, he resorted to biting his lip.

Gerard remained a bit confused as he continued to play with Frank's genitals, hearing nothing from Frank but choked gasps. He wanted to hear Frank let go and moan, shudder, squeal…

But Frank was insistent on being as quiet as possible, it seemed to Gerard, as his lips detached themselves from Frank's neckline again. Gerard was going to have to change that. Determined, Gerard applied more force against Frank's penis with his hand.

Gerard's captive bit back a whine, moving along to the rhythm his partner had set up. But Frank didn't want Gerard's hand on his dick—not when Gerard could have his own cock against him. That would feel better for his boyfriend, wouldn't it? With that in mind, Frank reached for Gerard's hand and removed it from his length, grasping it tightly.

Frank's lover gave small grunts as he took the subtle hint and ground their erections together, bringing one hand down Frank's side as he used the other one to prop himself up on his elbow. He then dragged a hand along the base of Frank's bare ass, giving it a light squeeze. Frank gave a groan in response, raising his leg. Gerard let his hand leave Frank's ass for a second to help raise Frank's leg higher, before returning his hands to Frank's base.

Gerard finally gave up holding himself up with his elbow after he removed his underwear, freeing himself from the small space entrapping his cock, and laid on top of Frank completely. Had it not been for the small whines Frank had emitted before and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, Gerard would have never known Frank was feeling any pleasure at all—which slightly bothered him. He wanted to hear Frank. Apparently, Frank had a lot more control than he had thought prior.

Little did Gerard know it took Frank all of his efforts in order to remain silent, diminishing would-be-moans to light groans instead. Despite the fact that Frank had done so because of his belief on sex, it was also a reflex action for him. After years of being forced to be quiet, he hadn't thought about the fact that maybe things would be different with Gerard. And if he had, he had quickly abolished those thoughts, in fear of being completely wrong and screwing things up again. But when Gerard's fingers neared his entrance, Frank's dam broke, and out poured the many grunts and moans he'd been holding in since the very beginning. In response, Gerard gave a low growl of approval against Frank's skin.

"Do it again," Gerard demanded, continuing the vicious attack on Frank's neck. He removed his fingers from Frank's entrance; he'd penetrate him when he was closer to the part of intimacy. Instead he let his fingers amuse themselves elsewhere on Frank, gently digging his nails at Frank's backside. That was sending him off the edge as well, but Gerard's pleasure came first, Frank reminded himself. He tightened his legs around Gerard's waist once more, grinding against Gerard with just as much fervor as the elder, in hopes of hearing a vocal release. Gerard failed to disappoint him, and Frank bit back a whine at the angelic sound.

If Gerard's moans have that affect on me, what's to say that—maybe—the same goes for Gerard? Frank couldn't help but ponder on the thought. Apparently, Gerard liked hearing his groans, so if Gerard wanted him to groan, then Frank decided he was going to groan, moan, pant, gasp, and shriek. Anything his Gerard wanted to hear was his for the taking. Frank's goal was, after all, to be Gerard's whore tonight, and onward.

He was Gerard's, now. The only thing he wanted to was make Gerard happy. The only thing he wanted was for Gerard to love him, like he had offered to. And making love was the equivalent of fucking, no? Therefore, the only thing Frank wanted was for Gerard to shove himself so deep into his rectum, slapping against his walls in the process, and fuck him until Gerard saw stars, cumming inside of him. And it didn't matter how he felt, because it was all meant for Gerard's enjoyment, and Gerard's alone.

Like he said, he was a whore. That was all he ever was. But at least he belonged to somebody worth whoring for, even if he himself wasn't worthy enough.

Gerard wasted no time, desperate to hear more of Frank's whimpers. He made his way to Frank's earlobe, nibbling it as he brought a hand to play with Frank's nipples. He made sure to mark Frank's jaw before he purred into Frank's ears, "Moan for me." A strained sigh—Frank still silently debating on the best way to handle this—escaped Frank's lips, but Gerard remained unsatisfied with Frank's lack of vocals. Set on winning this battle, his mouth traveled south, being sure to leave a path of saliva down Frank's stomach. Frank squirmed, only giving Gerard another small sigh.

Slowly, he began kissing around the thin border of hair that belonged to Frank's privates, nipping feverishly at the inside of Frank's hips as he restrained them. Frank let out a frustrated groan from lack of self control when he felt Gerard restrain him, and he took a fist-full of the bed covers, tightly wringing the cloth in his hands. With Frank's legs widening a bit, Gerard took advantage of the slight movement and pinned Frank's lower half by the legs instead of by the hip. Frank closed his eyes and bit his lip in frustration, but refused to give out another cry. He could moan, but only in moderation. He didn't want to over-do it, consumed by his own pleasure.

In an attempt to awaken Frank's voice box , Gerard then— unsuspectingly to Frank—took him into his mouth. Frank quivered instantly, legs widened, back arched, and head thrown against the pillows as he cried out in sheer pleasure.

It was surreal, unlike anything he'd ever dared to dream about.

Frank panted, his hands shaking. Instinctively, they found their way locked into Gerard's hair, entangling themselves as they directed Gerard's movements. This was a whole new experience, and it felt fucking amazing. To feel the warm and wet confines of Gerard's mouth was the best feeling he had experienced—ever.

Gerard gave a satisfied groan, bobbing his head along Frank's penis as he heard Frank give the first of what would be many incoherent vocalizations of pleasure. With every long stroke, Frank shuddered, and with every nip, Frank groaned. It was music to Gerard's ears, and he kept strumming the chords he wanted to hear from Frank. He wanted to get the message through to Frank that he was completely serious.

He had just committed his first concrete sexual act on him.

Frank couldn't help it as his eyes watered at the reality. He wasn't saddened for Gerard's legal standing. But what did make him tear up was the fact that Gerard had thrown all caution to the wind and actually set the moment in stone. No more beating around the bush, and no more 'what if's.' It was going to happen. And even if they didn't get as far as fucking, they had still—up to now—had oral sex.

Another tear escaped him when he re-analyzed the scene, and he felt guilty. Gerard had actually put that thing in his mouth, that dirty attachment that Frank wished sometimes he'd never had because of the places it'd been. And here Gerard was, putting it between his sweet lips…

But of course Gerard had weighed out his options, clearly choosing to give Frank the blow-job. That must've meant that Gerard didn't care about where it'd been, and he still wanted to move forward. He still wanted him, and Frank bit his lower lip as his mouth formed a slight smile, no matter how much it quivered. There would be no looking back. He was Gerard's now, and so was the body part that now lay tightly between the walls of Gerard's mouth.

By the look on Frank's face Gerard felt like he had a pretty good idea of what Frank was in dire need of that instant, but this moment was all about getting Frank to come out of his shell. If he wanted Gerard to do something, he was going to have to say it. He figured Frank realized as much when he cupped his boyfriend's ass once more, slowly prodding his fingers into Frank's anus while he began to deep throat the young man.

Frank gave a gasp, eyes widening as he shamelessly began to pant. "M-more," he pleaded, breaking his silence as he leaned into Gerard's finger. Gerard gave a smirk as he endorsed Frank's plea, letting the digit sink further into Frank's rectum. Frank continued panting, eyes now shut, as he moaned to Gerard.

"Ugh god, please," Frank whimpered as he felt another two fingers simultaneously enter him. He bit back a scream, giving a delightfully strained whine as Gerard stretched him. He could feel Gerard's other hand at work, separating his ass cheeks for easier access. Frank hadn't felt this in so long, and he never remembered it being this pleasurable either, despite the tears currently streaking his face.

"Ohhh." He eagerly rubbed himself against Gerard as Gerard's fingers scissored his insides. It was amazing, feeling Gerard's fingers pull and tug at him like that, along with Gerard's talented tongue working its magic against his cock.

His boyfriend's digits started slipping in and out, and much to Frank's dismay, they soon left. Frank struggled to rise up by way of his elbows, and lustfully stared down at the sight of Gerard sucking him. Frank was about to speak when Gerard did some weird twisty-flicky thing with his tongue, deep-throating him as he fondled his scrotum for play. Frank's dick twitched as he openly gave a deep growl instead.

Gerard immediately looked up, surprised and enticed as he heard something like that originate from Frank's throat. He flicked his tongue the same way he did before, slower this time, and Frank whimpered. He watched through his eyelashes as Frank let his head fall back from the sensation, and he applied a light pressure to Frank's balls.

"I…I-I want y-you i-i-in meee," Frank finally moaned, fingers entangled in Gerard's hair. His hands shook as they followed Gerard's bobbing movements. "P-please…god, please."

Gerard let Frank's member slide out his mouth, to which Frank visibly shuddered. Happy to see that Frank now seemed to be openly enjoying himself, Gerard crawled on top of the trembling young man.

It was a sight to see, Frank half-lidded and in pure bliss, shuddering beneath him.

Overcome by the sight in front of him and driven by immense affection, Gerard's tongue snaked its way between Frank's lips. They passionately moaned into each other's mouths, tongues lashing out against the other's. Gerard wanted to taste every inch of Frank, and Frank felt likewise. But Gerard won the tongue battle because the fucker cheated, craftily inserting a digit inside Frank simultaneously. Frank gasped, gripping Gerard as he welcomed the man's tongue lustfully massaging his own.

"I want to be in you," Gerard groaned in response to Frank's last coherent moan, kissing Frank's lip-ring as he ended that kiss. Frank bucked his hips forward, initiating another grinding session between the two of them as he widened his legs.

"What a-are you waiting f-for?" he breathlessly asked, his hands pulling firmly on Gerard's back. Gerard moaned as he felt Frank dig his nails into his backside, his dick throbbing at the idea of him actually inside Frank, relishing his insides. Actually, it was the fact that the idea would no longer remain an idea in a matter of minutes which drove Gerard crazy…

He let his mouth travel back down Frank's lips, biting the bottom one as he repeatedly played with Frank's lip-ring. It was then that he felt Frank's legs tightly secure themselves around his waist. Gerard immediately shuddered (his manhood obviously pleased with the attention Frank wanted to give it) as his tip brushed by Frank's entrance.

"Babe," Gerard breathed, unhooking Frank's legs from his waist and pushing them back towards Frank's and against the bed. Gerard's dick twitched from the plain view of Frank's entrance in front of him, but he refrained from entering just yet. He was a bit entertained by the fact that Frank was so flexible and able to let his legs bend so far in the first place.

Pre-cum leaked from Gerard's tip as Frank whimpered in anticipation.

"Lube," Gerard huskily explained to the boy in front of him.

"Uh huh," Frank managed to say, letting Gerard know that he was still there. He felt Gerard release his knees and the soles of his feet touched the bed, knees still bended as Gerard went over to the nightstand. His chest heaved up and down, mind racing as he tried to sink it in.

Today on his eighteenth birthday, a good two hours and forty minutes into it, he was going to be Gerard's on an intimate level.

Frank was disturbed from his thoughts, however, when he heard Gerard mutter a curse, slamming a drawer shut. Getting up on his elbows again, Frank turned his head to face an upset Gerard. "What's wrong, hun?" Frank asked, pure concern driving his motive.

"I don't have any lube," Gerard embarrassingly admitted, running a hand through his hair. He could see a look of confusion take over Frank's wonderful features, and he assumed the worst.

There's no way Frank wants to continue, he thought, tears of frustration threatening to appear as he went back on the bed, shoulders slumped. He had messed up, yet again.

"That doesn't matter," Frank assured him, shifting his position a bit so that his back was against the headboard and he sat up facing Gerard. Gerard gave him a look full of doubt before he learned why Frank was so indifferent.

"And why is that?" Gerard teased, expecting to hear Frank reply with something along the lines of, 'I want you now,' or 'I can't wait.' But Frank's response was far from it.

"I've never used it before," Frank admitted, giving a small smile. "So you don't need to worry about the lube if it's for me."

Gerard's heart stilled as the realization sunk in. Frank had never used lubrication while he was 'with' Pete. That must've been un-fucking-bearable. With the few—compared to Frank's—times he and Pete shared together, whenever he took he made sure there was lube involved. Even then, the shit hurt him. He could only imagine the pain Frank endured all those times.

Then again, Frank's little fetish seemed to make sense; not that it had to, but Gerard could see why Frank felt how he did. Frank had found a way to cope with the pain. Rather than let it hurt him, he let it please him. A horrible thought entered Gerard's mind when he thought more about Frank's sexual past. Did Frank even know there was more to sex than the pain?

Probably not.

Gerard made it his sole mission that night to love Frank and let him experience the other sensations involved. He wanted Frank to feel amazing. He wanted to show him that there was more to sex than the pain, but there was no lube around to help him. Pitifully, Gerard looked at Frank, asking, "Never?"

The poor creature smiled, shaking his head at Gerard. Gerard cringed, and Frank giggled at his sympathy. He wiggled his eyebrows, and jokingly commented, "It's okay, baby. It's actually quite the turn-on, if you didn't notice."

"How could I not?" Gerard replied, giving in to Frank's assurance and caressing Frank's cheek while he crawled back to him. Gerard positioned himself over Frank as he began to kiss him, Frank sliding down underneath once things got heated again. Gerard removed his hands from Frank's face, placing them over his knees and easing them back towards the boy as they rested against the bed. Ending the kiss, Gerard nipped at Frank's lower lip, earning a cry.

"How could I miss hearing you moan out like that?" Gerard asked as Frank panted. He lifted one of his hands and slid it down Frank's backside, tightening his grip on Frank's ass cheek before sinking his nails in.

"Or that?" Gerard asked as Frank groaned, his eyelids fluttering to a close. He bit his lower lip as he felt Gerard's teeth found other places to mark, Gerard's hands firmly placed on both sides of his body.

Gerard went on a whim, distracting Frank up there so he could enter him down here. According to Frank, he didn't mind the pain, and he was sure that doing things this way would cause Frank pleasure…since pleasure was pain? Nevertheless, Frank would soon see that there were other sides to sexual intercourse when making love. He wanted Frank to see stars, and he was going to do just that, even if it meant he had to harm Frank a bit to get there.

Without warning, Gerard's member prodded at and began to enter Frank's anus. He could feel Frank go rigid below him, his breath caught in his throat. Hands that once held Gerard so gently now gripped themselves into Gerard, nails making ridges in Gerard's skin. There were choking gasps emitted from Frank's sweet lips, and tears streaming at the side of his face. Gerard had wished he hadn't looked up to see that, and quickly preoccupied himself with kissing Frank's chest, which was heaving heavily.

"G-Gerard," Frank whined, trembling beneath him. He released his claw-like nails from Gerard's back before he drew blood, choosing to let out his 'pleasure' on the bed sheets. "Fucking do it," he pleaded.

Gerard obediently shoved himself in Frank's tight confines until he thought he went far enough for an entrance. Once Frank was used to him, then he'd think about going further.

But Frank had other things in mind, bringing himself further down and pleasing Gerard's pulsating cock. Frank's rectum was unbelievably taut, clenching itself around Gerard's member, and Gerard gave a surprised gasp at how fucking amazing it felt. He began to instinctively grind himself further, wanting nothing more than to feel Frank's walls close tighter around his length. He had even forgot about Frank's possible displeasure until he heard Frank grunt. He immediately stopped, looking up into the eyes of his lover to find that he need not worry, because Frank was in heaven.

If Frank had taught himself that this was heaven, then Gerard had something in store for him.

Frank let go of the sheets and used one hand to entangle itself in Gerard's hair. He brought Gerard's head up and locked them in a heated kiss, grinding against Gerard and ever slightly edging Gerard's manhood deeper within him.

"T-take me, Gee," he moaned into the kiss, eyes closed. It was the best he could manage at the moment. Had he tried to keep them open, they'd be horribly cross-eyed. "I w-want you so f-f-fucking bad…"

Gerard gave Frank a groan before he pulled out and re-entered Frank, making the younger man convulse in sheer gratification. Frank bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from moaning too loudly. But after Gerard's fifth blow, especially with a jab at his prostate, he couldn't contain himself. He gave a shriek, his back arching as his legs hooked tightly around Gerard's waist.

"Right there," he screamed, and Gerard gave a small smirk before he slammed back into Frank's prostate yet again, grinding down as he heard Frank squeal and pant.

Frank hadn't felt this before, and it was kinda scary for him. Something so good surely couldn't be experienced by him like that. It couldn't be real. But it was, and he was reminded of it as he felt Gerard grinding into him.

Oh god…

Gerard kept the blows coming, creating a steady rhythm as the sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, along with Frank's harmonious moans and pants. He, too, began to buck his hips forward, his need coming through. He had found a new way to enjoy sex, and it wasn't from the pain either. Gerard was here, giving him ultimate bliss. And he wasn't taking away all the fun, too. Gerard was enjoying himself just as much as he was. Sex didn't have to be so 'one-sided' after all.

"F-fuck," Frank groaned, his eyes rolling toward the back of his head and mouth slightly agape. He was delirious by this point, and it was mind-boggling, to be honest. He had never thought this could exist.

"F-f-faster, Gee—Uh god," Frank panted, obviously enjoying the wonderful things Gerard's cock was doing to him. Gerard smiled a bit as he groaned, knowing that Frank was enjoying himself. The poor boy hadn't been able to for so long, if ever…

Working with Gerard, Frank would buck his hips up every once in a while to help the force of the blow, knowing that the quicker and harder Gerard went, the more he'd enjoy it. And as much as Frank was enjoying it, he wanted Gerard to be up there with him, if not even higher. As Gerard ground himself into Frank's prostate once more, Frank clenched himself around Gerard.

Pre-cum continued to leak from Gerard's erect penis as he gave a high-pitched groan. That was fucking amazing. He shuddered as he felt Frank's walls pulsate around his length, and Frank ground himself further onto Gerard in hopes of further pleasing his boyfriend.

It worked, and Gerard followed suit, grasping onto Frank's hips. Frank shuddered as he felt Gerard's throbbing cock against his walls, and he gave a grunt as he tightened his legs.

"Faster," Frank breathlessly demanded with his lips against Gerard's ear. Gerard held Frank by his shoulders—pinning him down in addition to restricting him—and continued to pound into the young man, making Frank squeal from delight. Frank's voice never rested, always put to work with every re-entrance, every prod, and every grasp. His body went through a rigorous workout, with his muscles being put to work once again.

His eyes remained shut for most of the experience. But the few times he did manage to keep them open, they were glued to Gerard's own, no matter how cross eyed they'd become. Gerard's own eyes were clouded by passion, which worsened Frank's craze. Self control had been thrown out the window a while ago, and Frank now acted ridden on desire. When he felt Gerard's lips at his neck, he threaded his fingers through Gerard's hair and yanked Gerard's head upwards so that their lips would meet and crash together. Instead of letting Gerard lead the way, Frank kept control, tasting every inch of Gerard's mouth. Frank shuddered as Gerard groaned into the kiss and shoved his tongue deeper into the elder's mouth. Everything was so fucking perfect, so fucking unreal…

Gerard's rhythm never faltered. If anything, he picked up the pace a bit. Frank wasn't complaining in the least; he was in for the ride. He tried his best to say something—anything at all—but all that escaped his lips were his cries of ecstasy. The joy was too much for him and he had tried holding on for as long as he could, but he was near the end of his rope. Frank could feel the tightened muscles near the bottom of his abdomen, and he gave himself—at the most—ten more thrusts before he would cum on the both of them.

"I love you," Gerard breathlessly murmured, kissing Frank's face as the younger one shook from the intensity and current force of Gerard's thrusts. The only thing Frank could muster was a deep groan as he convulsed beneath Gerard, back arching and hips lifting. Frank's movements became sporadic, and Gerard could tell that his partner was about to reach his climax. Intent on making Frank experience one of his best releases, Gerard pushed Frank's bended legs back once more, creating a clearer and more accessible entrance to Frank's insides. Forcefully, Gerard held Frank's bended legs and pinned them against the bed. Frank shuddered as his eyes lost focus, and his hands reached for Gerard's sides, digging his nails into Gerard's skin and marking him.

"Do it," Frank urged him. "Oh fuck, please…d-deeper…"

Gerard gave another grunt as he re-entered the young man, making Frank bite back a scream. Gerard had just hit his prostate, square on. And Gerard kept the next couple of hits consistent, thrusting deep into Frank's prostate and making the younger man jolt on impulse.

"Oh, Oh f-fuck," he gasped. He tried as hard as possible to communicate his current situation to Gerard without ruining the moment while Gerard repeatedly and forcefully penetrated him. "G-Gee…"

"I'm so fucking close," Gerard panted, letting Frank know he understood him. "Cum onto me, baby."

Frank couldn't help it as the nagging feeling of self-control attempted to come back, due to past experiences. But this wasn't a past experience, and Gerard wanted him to orgasm, wanted him to feel his utmost pleasure, before his own. But just because Gerard wanted him to feel pleasure, it didn't mean he had to dirty him up in the process.

Frank's hands shook as they traveled south to try and take care of his cock's juices before the event occurred, but Gerard caught sight of Frank's movement and restricted Frank's hands. Frank gave a whimper and Gerard growled, nipping the young boy's neck. Heatedly, his 'kisses' reached Frank's earlobes, before he succumbed to attacking Frank's ear.

"I said cum onto me, love," Gerard repeated, pushing himself deep within Frank. Frank lost control, his walls spazzing around Gerard's length, from the repeated—and perfect—blows to his prostate, the assertive 'love marks' from Gerard's mouth, and from the experience as a whole. He'd never had something feel so right, fitting as perfectly together as this moment. Tried as he might've to restrain himself from enjoying this to its full extent, he'd failed. Miserably. And his climax reflected the fact that Gerard was now the ultimate owner of his entire being and that Gerard was the only thing he needed in life.

"Oh—Oh, Gerard!" Frank panted, before he gave way to screaming. He released the largest load he'd ever had, his orgasm taking control of his system as Gerard's liquids continually leaked deep within his rectum.

"F-Frankie," Gerard gasped, his movements becoming sporadic also. It wasn't long until he came as well, feeling Frank's rather large release on his lower stomach.

"Oh f-fuck, Frank!" Gerard screeched, digging his own nails into Frank's skin. Frank thrust his hips upward, eyes open and shamelessly cross eyed, screaming in absolute bliss. Gerard gave a deep grunt as he rode out the orgasm, brushing by Frank's prostate every once in a while. With their liquid releases taking place, the sound of their contact was a bit more defined. Every slip in and out could be identified by ear, as well as by Frank's euphoric whimpers. Each time Gerard would brush by, Frank would shudder and tighten his legs for the moment, before retreating and letting the natural indolence of such an activity control him.

"Gee," Frank moaned, clutching on to him as he rode out his own pleasure. Gerard's pants and Frank's groans were the only thing that filled the room, along with the sound of their slimy contact.

Before Gerard completely pulled out of Frank, he let his lips travel around Frank's torso, kisses lingering on the past scars and wounds embedded in Frank's chest once more. Immediately, Gerard's prior actions hit Frank like a wave, and Frank couldn't help but tear up as he embraced Gerard, allowing the elder to slip out of him with a small groan.

The two of them embraced, both ecstatic and in tears. Neither could believe that the moment actually happened, but here they were, embraced within each other's arms and bathing in the other's afterglow. To Frank, it was the best thing that had ever happened in his young life, and he was so grateful that he had been lucky enough to meet this man. He only wished they'd done this sooner. Now that he had a taste of the happiness, he wasn't so quick to give it away. He was never quick to give Gerard back in the first place, but now he was more reluctant. Except he would think about that later, not now. Not while he was still tucked securely within Gerard's strong arms, cuddled and snug.

Gerard kept his grip around Frank tight, afraid to let go. The moment was seamless and picture perfect, as was the boy in his grasp—even though Frank would be quick to think otherwise. Frank was his, and he was Frank's. Everything was how it was supposed to be, with the two of them alone and together, free to express their means of love in their own way. Gerard knew that when he got caught, he'd have hell to pay for sleeping with a minor, but it was worth it. He'd brazenly go back and do it over again if given the opportunity, possibly even go back and do this sooner. They had needed each other so badly. And if Frank didn't need him as badly, he needed Frank badly. Frank was the only thing he had left to live for in the world, and goddamn it, he was going to love Frank if he wanted to. Frank was his. His to love, and his to protect. Nothing would stop his love of Frank, and the growth of their love as a whole.

Not even jail.


	45. Out From Under

**Out From Under**

Pete sat in a zombie-like structure, his eyes wide and still as he blankly stared out the window. Tina sat beside him, possessed in her own thoughts. Nonetheless, her thoughts were about Pete. She knew her boyfriend was losing it; he had stayed awake for the whole night and it was now dawning on ten o'clock in the morning. Every few moments or so, his eyes would flicker towards the door and back at the window. His position never faltered, although his hope had squandered a bit.

It was Halloween morning, and Frank still hadn't walked through the doors.

Tina reached to embrace Pete, but he shrugged her away. She knew it would be safer for her to let him do so, instead of risking a broken arm. He hadn't done something of the like to her before, but he had come pretty close, twisting her wrists and swelling them for a good week and a half because she had tried to help him with something once. She'd learned the hard way to let things be with Pete, and that she should not try and help unless specifically asked.

"I'll just…go," she quietly muttered, and Pete waved her away as she walked over to the nightstand. She was determined not to lose Pete to Frank, but she didn't want to lose Pete on her own, either. Frank was something she could deal with on her own. Because with Frank, there was no competition. Frank was a dude and he had a penis. Her, on the other hand…that bitch Sara was a threat. Case-closed.

At the nightstand she picked up a few minuscule objects, like her cell phone and earrings, before heading toward the door to brew up her plan for Sara's destruction. Before she left the room, Pete's phone caught her eye and a risky idea popped into her head as she snuck another glance at her boyfriend. She quickly looked away when she saw Pete glaring at her, but she wasn't quick enough. As soon as Pete saw her glimpsing at him, he snapped, "Get the fuck out already."

"I'm just taking my phone," she lied, slipping Pete's phone into her pocket. Pete gave a small grunt, dismissing her. She gave a small glare of her own before heading toward the door, but she couldn't blame Pete for his snapping. She knew that deep down inside, he really meant, 'Get out of the way in case Frank comes!'

Poor baby…

Her sympathy intensified into anger as she felt Pete's phone to vibrate against her upper thigh, a few feet away from Pete himself. Without thinking, she pulled it out of her pocket.

Luckily, Pete was too busy thinking up of reasons why Frank hadn't come back yet. He gave an annoyed look at Tina as she froze once more, not fully comprehending why she was acting so weird. He glared at her and demanded she leave, too out of it to notice the small detail. In his eyes, Tina was merely holding on to a cell phone, no doubt about to gossip with her friends. What else was new?

"Can't you take the phone and answer that shit somewhere else?" he demanded. Tina quietly murmured an apology and exited the room slowly, with the vibrating object in hand. Without her flipping it open, Tina knew who the person on the other end of the line was.

Tina also knew that it was totally coincidental how Sara managed to call Pete right at that moment, but she couldn't help but still hate her. How dare she call Pete? Did she know that he had a girlfriend? And if she did, what type of girl was she to continue the calls and affairs? What's more, she knew that if she had left the phone back in the room, Pete probably would have confided in Sara and told her everything.

How could he pick that bitch over her? Confide in Sara, who was god knows where, instead of right here, where she was and had been, all the time?

There was no doubt about it; if she was going to keep Pete, then she had to go through with her plan and quick. She had been kind of nervous about losing Pete to Frank, but Sara, as she mentioned before, was a huge risk. She couldn't lie back there and just watch things unravel.

After she exited the room and closed the door, Tina's complete attention was on the phone. She was debating whether or not to open it or let the hoe stay on hold. She could have just let the phone ring…her goal was just simply to distance the two from each other, and that could be accomplished by just leaving the phone alone and hiding it somewhere.

On the other hand, she could answer the call and just 'wing it.' She could try to reveal to Sara the true man she was dealing with and have that girl understand once and for all the reason why she, Tina, was best suited for Pete.

Becoming audacious with every step she took further and further away from the other side of the door, Tina flipped the phone open and waited to hear signs of life from the other end. If she wasn't so hot-headed with the fact that Sara had called Pete at just the perfect moment, she would have left the phone in the room and eavesdropped in on the conversation to hear what Pete wanted to say. That was the most important thing, wasn't it? The most important thing was how Pete was feeling, and as his girlfriend that was all that should have mattered to her.

No matter how true that was, the fact that he chose to confide in Sara over her was too nerve-wracking. And when the time came for her to put those prior thoughts into actions, she winced.

"Hey Petey?" Sara's voice reached Tina's ears and it took all she had to keep herself from gagging. When she regained her composure, she decided it was only fair that she answered the girl. She was a little girl, wasn't she? She sounded like she was fucking fifteen or something. What was with Pete and messing around with fifteen year olds?

"He's not here," Tina monotonously snapped, finally responding. "Care to leave a message?"

"I just wanted to check up on Petey," Sara explained cautiously. "Unless this is the wrong number…?"

Tina chuckled at Sara's apparent and obvious confusion. "This is Pete's number. He's not here. What is there more to understand? And no, you can't check up on 'Petey' but you do have the right number. Get it now?"

"Yeah," Sara replied defensively. "I just don't understand why you have to be so bitchy about it. I just wanted to check up on Petey—"

"Number one," Tina started, smirking to herself at the ditz Pete was fooling around with, "Since when has 'Pete' become 'Petey'?"

"Since when I met him," Sara responded evenly. "What's it to you?"

Tina chuckled, shaking her head at the young girl. Sara sounded nothing like she suspected, and she was obviously a whole lot less sure of herself than Tina thought she was prior. She sounded so lost and confused, and Tina immediately knew how much easier this was going to be. Although, she couldn't help but feel jealous of the girl. What did Sara have that she didn't? Was it the age? The naivety? Because Frank, if she was not mistaken, had been the same way…except he was a guy, and this recent problem was a girl. But they shared the same qualities, and she was obviously a threat. She had never thought that Frank would become a huge problem, but look where they were now? It was better to be on guard with this girl than be sorry later.

"Second, 'Petey' has a girlfriend, hun," Tina finally stated, waiting to hear from Sara on the other end. And just as she suspected, the bitch had nothing to say. There was nothing she could say, because she was in the wrong. Furthermore, with what Tina was about to tell her, she was sure Sara would want nothing more to do with Pete.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Sara finally apologized. "I never thought…"

"It's okay," Tina told her, shrugging it off and playing off of her sympathy. "Pete's been out of it ever since he hasn't been getting his daily 'dose' of Frankie."

Nothing fully sunk in Sara's head as she tried to grasp what had actually just happened. Here she was, ready to bite Tina's head off, when in reality Tina had every right to. Sara couldn't believe she was that girl, the girl who was responsible for the break up of a couple. She had hated her ex boyfriend for doing that to her, only to come back and do it to another woman. She felt so guilty, even though she had been with Pete because he had lied to her and told her that he had broken up with his ex. She should have known better than to believe him. She opened her mouth again to apologize once more, trying to win over his ex and prove her innocence. "I'm so sorry—''

"I mean, I guess sex from you wasn't enough," Tina continued, pushing past the envelope. "Sex with me couldn't quell him and apparently hun, neither could the sex he got from you. But it's not our fault. We're only what God made us. Too bad us women didn't come penis attached..."

Immediately, Sara caught on.

"Pete's what?" she incredulously asked, and Tina smirked on the other end. Her problem was officially taken care of.

* * *

Gerard sighed, a content smile etched on his face as he began to draw, memories of last night fueling his passion. Well, it had really been early in the morning, but whatever. It was a sketch-pad moment. He'd found it along with the rest of his old belongings, as well as those hand-cuffs. He'd looked through the past sketches of Frank when they had first enetered the motel, and couldn't help but smile at the innocence. As he stared at Frank now, he still couldn't help but to giggle. He saw nothing but the same, if not more, ironically. If he had thought Frank looked happy back then, Frank was ecstatic now. And it was so beautiful, Gerard had to capture it.

Gerard hadn't been able to sleep last night, and instead he began cleaning the room. It was only right, he had messed up the room, hadn't he? Plus, he knew that Frank would wake up and want to clean the room. And he didn't want Frank to do a thing today. He'd cleaned Frank, in fact, giving him a bird-bath.

Frank was truly gorgeous. True, his chest had been littered in marks, most of them from the past. Nonetheless, it added to his beauty. He wasn't suggesting that Frank should go and scar himself to become pretty, but the marks showed what he'd gone through and how he'd come out of it. Although, there was one mark that had scared Gerard a bit, and he traced his finger over it many times. There was a laceration wound that had healed over, but Gerard wiped it as if it were still bleeding. It was in his eyes, because he could imagine Pete, that fucker, running the blade against Frank's smooth skin.

But if Frank could go through something like that and still smile, it was truly beautiful. Frank was beautiful.

Besides the body marks, the ink on his skin caught Gerard's attention as well. He had lived with Frank for a good two to three months now, and he'd never seen that his babe had so many tattoos. Well, he'd known about the few covering Frank's hands, but he hadn't known about the few tattoos that littered his back. He had all the tattoos on his back refer to Halloween, which wasn't much. It was about maybe 3 tattoos? Still, that was a lot. He hadn't seen any tattoos anywhere else, besides his babe's knuckles. Those, too, referred to Halloween. But he should have known that already.

Frank still had never told him what was so special about today. Halloween was Halloween, and truthfully, there was nothing interesting about it…at least, not until last night. But Frank couldn't have known that they would have become intimate. He'd planned on running away, after all.

But he was so thankful that things unrolled the way they did. That was an experience he wanted to have again, and he was upset that he'd waited for so long. As he took another look at his sleeping boyfriend, he felt a pang of admiration for the little boy. It was highly plausible that Frank had thought of the experience the same way.

Gerard smiled as he meticulously examined his sketch of Frank's resting face. He wasn't pleased with it too much, and he shouldn't have expected so much excellency from his sketches since he hadn't drawn in nearly six or so months….except for that one time when they first came over to the motel. Still, it looked relatively close, although he could never match a fraction of Frank's true beauty.

Another thing that was beautiful was Frank's moaning, Gerard concluded, smirking to himself. That had taken some work on his part, but it was oh-so worth it. His poor baby wasn't used to it, he knew. His baby also wasn't used to feeling any pleasure at all, but luckily he'd changed that. From the content sigh Frank released just now as he slept, Gerard was sure of it.

The elder man bit his lower lip as he rose from his seat and placed the sketch book back in his bag. It was already ten in the morning, which meant that he had spent a good hour or two wasting time away. Though, he could waste an eternity staring at that angel.

Gerard decided he would give Frank a mini-breakfast-in-bed, heading out of the room and downstairs to greet Dan. He was going to get Frankie some juice or soymilk along with a bagel or something. It wasn't much, but that's where the mini came in. Plus, with the broadcast out against him (it was still a bit weird to think in terms of that) he couldn't really go out and get Frank anything, which meant he was going to have to kiss Dan's ass. But Dan would do it anyway, so Frank would still get his mini-breakfast in the end.

To think, two days ago he'd found out his brother had died and he was heartbroken. Plus, yesterday he'd almost lost Frank, and he'd been heartbroken andpetrified. Now a day later, he was the happiest man on Earth. He was currently on cloud nine, walking on air, and simply euphoric.

As long as Frank was with him, life was good.

* * *

Frank laid there, waiting for a disturbance of any kind.

He waited for a shove from Tina and a slap from Pete. He waited for Tina to shake him awake and he waited for Pete to call for him to wake his 'lazy ass up.' He waited for Tina's nails to dig into his arm and he waited for Pete's disgusting tongue to mark his neck.

He waited for reality.

But no such thing occurred, and those thoughts escaped his mind with his next breath. As Gerard's scent filled his nostrils, none of the previous qualms remained his mind. The only thoughts that consumed his psyche were that of last night—or should he say this morning. The moment he and Gerard shared was unbelievable, and he couldn't help but smile. In fact, there was no need for him to. There was already a smirk on his face.

How fucking grand was that?

Frank stayed in bed, eyes shut. He didn't want to wake up. He wanted to spend the day in bed, in nowhere but Gerard's strong arms. At the thought of Gerard, Frank snuggled deeper into the embrace he thought was there. However there was none, and Frank snuggled into the pillows instead of Gerard's arms.

Instantly his eyes shot open, blinded by the blast of light. Still, all he could think about was Gerard's location. Where was he? Sluggishly, Frank rubbed his eyes, readjusting them as he tried to sit up. It became apparent to him, though, that the act wasn't possible unless he was willing to deal with the soaring pain that shot up through his ass and limbs.

Ironically, he smiled at the pain as he recalled the early hours of the morning. He chuckled immediately after, glowing from the events that took place. He, Frank Iero, was now eighteen years old. He, Frank Iero, had just made love with—or fucked with, whatever—Gerard. And he, Frank Iero, was the happiest he'd ever been, despite the pain he was feeling. He couldn't and didn't dare try to move his legs. But if he utilized his elbows to their full extent, he could bring himself to sit up…kinda.

Gerard then waltzed the room, whistling and unbelievably happy himself as he held a cup of coffee in one hand and juice in the other. The door slammed before Frank could sit up fully and Gerard stood before him, waiting expectantly with items in his hand and by the coffee table.

When Frank's eyes finally landed on Gerard, Gerard's smile broadened, doubling in size. Frank lay before him, gorgeous as ever while last night's hickies and markings displayed themselves plainly on Frank's torso. The older man couldn't help but shyly giggle at the boy lying inside his bed. He'd deal with the fact that he broke the law later. Right now Frank was happy, as was he.

He rested the drinks and his things on the table as he glided over to Frank. Frank smiled as his boyfriend sat next to him and engulfed him in an air tight. "Good morning, my love," Gerard murmured. Frank giggled in response as he received a kiss from Gerard's sweet lips on his forehead, and he wrapped Gerard within his arms as well. Gerard let himself pull Frank deeper into his embrace, to which Frank replied with a slew of curses.

When it came down to it, he wanted to remain in Gerard's grasp, knowing very well that it would include some discomfort on his part. Nonetheless, he still wanted to melt into Gerard. The way he felt when he was within Gerard's embrace was worth it.

Gerard grew pink immediately from the slight embarrassment. "I, uh…hope you're okay from last night," he finally spoke, feeling Frank's body stiffen as the younger cursed aloud.

"I'm okay," Frank jovially assured him, his voice scratchy. He held his breath as he tried to shift comfortably into Gerard's hold, but strained some of the cuts and scratches attained from their intimacy. Gerard saw the freshly opened cuts and winced, feeling solely responsible for the marks on Frank. However, Frank stared at them in awe and appreciation, his mind replaying just how those marks got there.

He was so fucking lucky for Gerard. Period.

"Are you sure?" Gerard worriedly asked as Frank inspected his bite-marked arms and nail-dug legs. Frank nodded, a giddy smile on his lips. Frank kept checking the love marks with pure admiration. However, Gerard mistook his interest in the marks as regret.

"We don't have to do it again," Gerard quickly said, his elated feeling immediately diminishing by the second. "I…I-I might've taken it too far, and you're just a kid, too. Oh god, Frankie. I'm so sorry—''

"No!" Frank interrupted, eyes wide as he stared into Gerard's eyes. He roughly continued, "It was fucking amazing."

"But I still took advantage of a minor," Gerard finally admitted, getting to the root of the problem as his spirits sunk. He had told himself not to worry about the whole ordeal, but Gerard couldn't help it when he was looking virtuousness in the face. Frank was completely ecstatic, but he also looked so innocent. He immediately felt guilty for making Frank partake in something so errant and sinful …

Frank rose from his comfortable position on Gerard as Gerard further explained himself. "I mean, I know that it shouldn't matter, but I can't help it, Frankie. I love you, and loved you…despite the fact that you were underage. Doesn't it bother you?"

"No."

"That's it?" Gerard asked, chuckling from the nervousness. Frank stared at him expectantly, a childlike smile on his lips. "Just 'no'?" Gerard tried again.

"Yup," Frank hoarsely agreed, crossing his legs as he gave a wince. Once his threshold for pain had risen, he continued. "I have good news for you, actually..."

"Oh really?" Gerard asked, rolling his eyes. Regardless, he smiled at Frank and crawled so that he could position himself around Frank's new pose. He could see Frank was struggling to be close enough to him without being discomfited, and so he decided to struggle with him. Gerard shifted himself closer, fitting into Frank's mold, no matter how awkward he might've looked. It was all about making Frank feel comfortable.

Frank smiled, biting his lip as he tried to relax. He was hurting a lot from the intense workout his body recieved, but Gerard was here trying to minimize the discomfort. And he was sure Gerard wasn't comfortable at all. It was kinda funny…

"Um-hm," Frank replied, biting hs tongue. He wrapped Gerard's arms around him, his hands landing on his lower stomach.

Gerard chuckled, taking that as the proposed hint. "Are you pregnant with my baby?" he teasingly asked the younger boy. Frank gave him a feigned gasp.

"I don't have a uterus, Gee," he complained, whining. "I have a penis. I thought we went over this."

"Yes we did, and you do," Gerard agreed, chuckling. He brought his hand down in the general area of Frank's genitals as he continually rubbed him. "And I love it very much."

"It loves you, too," Frank giggled, Gerard's hand still rubbing itself against him. He giggled as Gerard retreated his hand and began to shyly trace patterns on his chest, playing 'connect-the-dots' with Frank's hickies. Frank gave a content sigh, resting his head on the wall.

"I got you juice," Gerard quietly offered, kissing Frank's forehead. Frank gave a chuckle as Gerard continued with, "And I have my coffee."

"You love that stuff, don't you?"

"As much as you love being vegan," Gerard replied, grinning. He got up and headed to the coffee table and picked up their drinks. "Here you go."

"What are you doing?" Frank snorted. He tried getting out of bed, only to be put back down by Gerard. "Let me go!" he giggled, after giving a slight wince.

"Where are you going to?" Gerard asked. "I've brought the drinks already."

"I've gotta brush, don't I?" Frank asked, trying to get up again. "And take a shower while I'm at it…"

"We're staying inside all day," Gerard said, dismissing him.

"That doesn't mean anything!" Frank rasped, laughing.

"Take a look around, Frankie," Gerard said, smirking. "I don't think I hit you that hard…"

"What are you talking about?" Frank asked, raising a brow as his laughter died down. He glanced around the cleaned room and inspected their bed. Nothing was wrong.

Nothing was wrong.

"Woah," Frank said, his eyes widening as he did a double-take. "The room…it's much cleaner." He saw he hit the nail right on the head as Gerard started beaming. He peered over the edge of the bed as he realized just how orderly everything was. The floor was stripped bare, the only items on the floor being their shoes. Even then, it was only littered in Gerard's slippers that he had probably used to go out and get their drinks. The television had a crack in it still, but the books—all of them—were packed away nicely. The clothes that had once been scattered around the room were also put away, stuffed in the closet and inside their backpacks.

Their bed was fairly neat and orderly as well. If Frank remembered correctly—which he did—the bed should have been anything but neat. He looked down at the cloth in his hands and realized they were a different color from yesterday's. And what was even more surprising was that everything was clean. Nothing—not even himself, Frank verified, sniffing his underarms—smelled like sweat or sex. In fact, the only evidence of what occurred last night were the dark red blotches on Frank's skin. That, along with Frank's new voice. Plus, he was wearing boxers. He wasn't completely naked anymore.

"What happened?" he raucously asked, sniffing his underarms again. Was he smelling lavender? "Am I wearing deodorant?" he questioned, unbelievably. Gerard smiled, nodding his head.

"That, you are," he replied, smirking. He continued his way over to the bed as Frank sat, confused.

"How…how did everything get so clean?" Frank asked in disbelief. "And why don't I smell like sweat?"

"I cleaned stuff up," Gerard said, nonchalantly. He handed Frank his juice and Frank accepted it, his mind still focused on how to figure it out.

"That explains the bed and the room," Frank said finally. "But how come I'm so… hygienic?"

"Aren't you always?" Gerard asked, chuckling. Frank rolled his eyes.

"Anything but," he replied, clearing his throat. He ran his hands through his hair and discovered it was a bit damp. Had his hair been washed, too?

"I gave you a bird-bath!" Gerard excitedly explained.

A bird-bath? What the hell was that? Although, it sounded a bit familiar.

"Which is…?"

"I basically bathed you while you were sleeping," Gerard said, and a blush formed on Frank's cheeks. Although, there was no reason to blush. Gerard had already seen him naked. But it was morning, now. All his flaws…

"It's like a regular bath," Gerard went on explaining, overlooking Frank's nervousness. "There's just no soap involved. Well, no soap needs to be involved. But I think I did anyway…I can't remember."

"So…you cleaned everywhere?" Frank asked, raising his arm again. Gerard chuckled and nodded.

"And then I cleaned the bed, the floor, and the room…"

"Why?" Frank asked, chuckling from nervousness. "Why didn't you wake me up so I could help you—''

"I didn't want you doing anything," Gerard said, interrupting him. "Last night was your night."

"As much as it was yours," Frank retaliated. "I made half the mess, I should clean it all up."

"Well you didn't, because I refused to wake you," Gerard said. "And I gave you the bird-bath because I knew you weren't going to want to go anywhere." At that last line, Frank blushed again.

"The name sounds familiar," Frank admitted after a while, repeating it. "Bird-bath, bird-bath…"

"And since I gave you that bird-bath," Gerard continued, grasping Frank's tattooed knuckles, "I saw all your tats. And then I remembered you used to make a big fuss about Halloween, because I saw that tattoo on your back. Care to explain the obsession now, Frank—''

"Whore bath!" Frank exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "I remember now! You gave me a whore bath."

"Is that what you call it?" Gerard asked. "'Whore bath'?"

"That's what I thought," Frank admitted. "I mean, you didn't give me a complete shower, right? You just wet some wash-cloth and started wiping…am I right?" Gerard nodded, still skeptical of the actual name. "Yeah…so I am right."

"I'm scared to even ask," Gerard started, "but where'd you get that name from?"

"Where'd you get yours?" Frank weakly asked, but he already knew who had won this battle.

"Well…it's like the birdies do outside," Gerard explained. "Pretty self-explanatory," he added, scoffing. "Those things outside that birds go in and wash out…? Now tell me how you get 'whore bath' from something as innocent as that."

"I did that once, and someone told me it was a whore-bath." Even though Frank had avoided saying the name, they both knew who he was referring to.

"And why was that?" Gerard dryly asked, crossing his arms. Frank gulped before he continued.

"He called it a whore bath because 'proper whores clean themselves between appointments,'" Frank recited. Gerard's face reddened at the thought of Pete uttering those words to Frank, and he vehemently shook his head.

"You had a bird bath."

"Is it a bird bath because you want it to be one?" Frank questioned. "Or because it actually is one?"

"Both."

"That can't be," Frank answered, shaking his head. "It was a whore bath. You said you cleaned everywhere. Everywhere includes everywhere. Or did you not?"

Gerard sighed, not falling for Frank's trap. "You had a fucking bird-bath Frankie. A thorough bird bath, and nothing else."

"How about a thorough whore ba—''

"Why does it have to be 'whore' and not 'bird'?" Gerard asked, defeated.

"It depends who you're giving the bath to," Frank pointed out. "See, had I given you the bird-bath, it would be a bird-bath."

"What happened to 'whore'?" Gerard asked.

"Whereas you gave me the bath, and it is now a whore-bath," Frank continued. Gerard knew where Frank was trying to lead this, but he refused to go ahead with it.

"So I get it. It's a whore-bath because of the person who's giving it," he stated, purposely switching up the roles. "Oh, I see."

"Yes!" Frank agreed, his eyes lighting up. Gerard finally understood him. "Exactly! Wait…No. No, no, no. You've got it all wrong!"

"No, I think I'm quite right," Gerard went on.

"It's because of the person you're bathing. I'm the whore."

"My fucking jeez, Frankie!" Gerard exclaimed. "You're not a whore!"

"I am, Gee," Frank said. Gerard shook hs head, but Frank elaborated. "I have been, since I was fifteen."

"That does not count, Frankie," Gerard finally insisted, shaking his head. He'd known Frank had lost his virginity to Pete at such a young age, but it still kind of stumped him every time he heard it. "Pete's—''

"Nonetheless, thank you so much for everything," Frank interrupted him, holding Gerard's arm and quickly changing the topic. "Thank you for the 'bath,' and for last night."

"Jeez, Frankie," Gerard said, rolling his eyes.

"No, really," Frank continued, smiling. "The whole thing was perfect. For the first time, everything felt so…I don't know the word for it, but it felt so amazing, and I enjoyed everything, and it was just…" Frank's cheeks were extremely flushed by this point, and he started jumbling his words together toward the end. "You're just so perfect, babe."

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Gerard asked, as Frank tilted his head forward to give Gerard a kiss on the cheek. Frank giggled as he nodded his head, his hands roaming Gerard's chest. "Then there's nothing to thank me for."

"What are you talking about?" Frank asked, tapping Gerard's upper chest.

"You enjoying yourself was thanks enough."

"Oh please," Frank laughed, looking up at Gerard after he rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that crap. I didn't do anything."

"Yeah you did."

"No I didn't. You did everything."

"Frank," Gerard asked, chuckling. He was going to take Frank through the process step by step. It took two to tango, didn't it? No matter how one-sided his boyfriend wanted to make it, it wasn't so. "What did we do last night exactly?"

"Correction, Gerard; it was this morning, not last night," Frank coyly replied. "There's a huge difference."

"A second difference?" Gerard joked.

"Try two to three hours difference," Frank snorted. "You have no sense of time."

"Says the guy who once called me at 2:00AM," Gerard responded, smirking. "Right. I'm the one that has no time sense. I got it."

"Finally, you see things my way," Frank joked, grinning widely.

"My point still stands," Gerard continued. "And that point is that it takes two to tango."

"But you fucked me," Frank bluntly stated. "The only thing I really did was let you fuck me, which isn't much…"

"Shhhh!" Gerard quickly demanded. "I didn't fuck you. I made love to you."

"There you go," Frank agreed, smiling. "You did."

Gerard slapped his forehead, catching his mistake as Frank laughed profusely. "Forget what I said," Gerard insisted, correcting himself. "We made love to each other." Frank shook his head as he continued to chuckle. Nevertheless, he reached for Gerard's waist and pulled him close enough to plant a kiss on his neck, a hand entangled in Gerard's hair.

"I owe you," he murmured into Gerard's skin, inhaling his delicious aura as a grin planted itself on Frank's wonderful features. Gerard gave a defeated sigh as he cradled Frank's neck and Frank arched his head to better accommodate for Gerard.

"You don't owe me," Gerard muttered, kissing Frank's jaw line. Frank gave a small shrug, smiling into the embrace. He gave a light wince at the small change of position, though, before he retaliated.

"Fine," he sighed, biting his lower lip mischievously. He pulled away from Gerard, who was highly suspicious of his intentions.

"What happened?" Gerard cautiously asked. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Because I'm with you," Frank cheesily responded, giving him a cheeky smile. Gerard gave Frank one last look before he let the subject drop. Instead, he decided to pick up where they left off, before the whole 'whore bath' tangent.

"Sure, sure," Gerard said, rolling his eyes. "But don't think you're slick, Frankie."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked, slightly confused. His smile faltered a bit.

"I know and still remember asking you about Halloween," Gerard said, bringing them somewhat back on topic. Frank blushed, avoiding Gerard's eye-contact. "I gave you that bath thingy, so I got to see a lot of things I didn't take notice of last night."

"You mean this morning," Frank corrected.

"Yeah, yeah," Gerard agreed, shrugging it off. "I didn't know you had a tattoo on your back shoulder," Gerard said, deciding to attack things one tattoo at a time. "It looks pretty…awesome, I guess…"

"You sound…I dunno, unhappy?" Frank asked anxiously, rising up. He let out a curse as his body shot up with pain. Despite that, he continued. "If you hate it, I'll get rid of it—''

"No way, Frankie," Gerard insisted. He visibly shuddered. "That'll hurt more than getting the tattoo itself!"

"That doesn't matter—''

"The hell it does," Gerard snapped. "No needles…at least, no needles because of me."

Frank gave a regretful look once he noticed the reason why Gerard had been a bit uneasy. He hated needles with a passion, didn't he? "Gee, I'm so sorry."

"No, I said it looked cool, and I wasn't lying," Gerard insisted. "It looks pretty badass."

"Are you sure?" Frank worriedly asked. He tried to cover his back and Gerard merely laughed at him.

"Frank, it's amazing," Gerard said, smiling. "I was just wondering if you got it on Halloween or something…I dunno…I'm trying to figure out why you like Halloween so much."

"Aww," Frank cooed, playfully shoving Gerard. "You actually want to hear why I got it? You don't have to do that," he chuckled.

"No, I'm interested," Gerard insisted. Frank continued to shrug the notion off, but Gerard kept insisting. "I want to know how you got it."

"For real?"

"Real," Gerard answered, smiling. Part of him was hoping that Frank would tell him about some heartwarming father and son time, and that his father had sent him out to get the tattoos. He was sadly mistaken.

"There's not much," Frank said, trying to dodge the reality.

"Did you and your dad go out?" Gerard eagerly. "Did he send you out to get the tattoos? Tell me, tell me!"

"Not me and my dad," Frank said, giving a frown. "Pete took me out to a place before and I got some…not much, though," he added, hoping to assuage the truth.

"How long ago?" Gerard asked. "When you first met, or…?"

"Um…" Frank scrunched his eyes, trying to recall the past. "I think I was sixteen? So, yeah…It was a while into the whole thing."

"So why Halloween?" Gerard asked, more intrigued. It must've been important if he had gotten the tattoo two to three years ago. He just hoped that the tattoo had nothing to do with Pete—sentimentally at least. He knew he was being a baby about it all, but he didn't know how he'd be able to deal with the fact that Pete was able to forever ink himself on Frank's skin.

"Why not?" Frank teasingly asked.

"Well, I'm just confused," Gerard admitted. "You told me you loved Halloween, and then you mentioned something once about you hating it…I think…And now you seem so nonchalant about it, so yeah…I'm kinda lost. I won't lie."

"I did used to hate it," Frank agreed, biting his lower lip.

"Is that why?" Gerard asked, motioning to the tattoo. "Did Pete force you to—''

"No," Frank said, shaking his head. "That was all me. My idea," he glumly added, looking at the tattoos on his body. "I know, you hate them, don't you?"

"No way, babe," Gerard insisted for the hundredth time. "I just…I think you've got the most guts I've ever known to exist…I mean, to tattoo yourself at sixteen, and then stab your ears at seventeen…you're crazy," Gerard joked, and a smile reappeared on Frank's face.

"Only when there's a need to be," Frank said, flatteringly. Gerard rolled his eyes but hugged Frank for the compliment.

"That doesn't stop the fact that you're crazy."

"I know," Frank chuckled, nodding. "But Halloween is amazing now. It's…"

"Like Skittles?" Gerard asked, remembering a past conversation. "Right?"

"Exactly," Frank giggled, remembering the day Gerard had tried to wake him up by giving a false alarm. "Halloween is like Skittles. Especially when you start it out the way you did this morning."

"The way we did," Gerard insisted. Frank gave a shrug, quietly snuggling into Gerard's arms again. Gerard embraced Frank, who gave a slight hiss, but smiled.

"So what happened before to make you hate it so much?" Gerard asked, playing with Frank's hair. Frank shook his head, but decided to speak anyway.

"Pete was obsessed with this day," Frank admitted to Gerard, and Gerard's heart sped up for a moment. What if that tattoo did have sentimental value? But instead of voicing his fears, he stayed quiet and let Frank continue. "I mean, he was like 'shouldn't I be celebrating it?' and stuff…but I started hating it. I didn't like his way of…celebrating."

"Oh, Frankie," Gerard exclaimed, hugging his little teddy bear. "I'm so sorry."

"He insisted it was the right thing to do," Frank went on, rocking along with Gerard. "And then he claimed to do the stuff because of me. But really, all that stuff starts to lose its value when I don't want to celebrate my own birthday anymore. If I want to celebrate it sitting alone in a room, then I should be able to sit alone in a room. You know?"

Gerard's eyes widened when he heard Frank mention 'birthday.' Not so long ago, Frank had mentioned something of the like, and he had sounded just as excited when he spoke about Halloween. He remembered waking a sleepy Frank up one day by shouting that it was Halloween, and Frank had responded with, "My birthday?"

Could it possibly be…?

Frank saw the look of bewilderment in Gerard's eyes as he laughed, shaking his head. Gerard had no idea what was going on. How should he? One second he was talking about Halloween, and in the next, he was talking about his birthday. How on Earth would the two ever connect?

"Are…are you talking about the same thing?" Gerard cautiously asked, not wanting to completely reveal that he was starting to understand everything. But as soon as Frank gave a small nod, he couldn't contain his excitement any longer. Frank, oblivious to Gerard's latest discovery, continued to explain himself and his 'gibberish.'

"I'm probably not making any sense to you whatsoever—Oumch!"

Gerard interrupted Frank as he hauled the young adult from his comfortable position, and into an intense bear hug against the mattress. He was going to kill Frank! Had he just written off his birthday as if it were nothing? It was everything! He was now an adult, he could do whatever he wanted! And to think he luckily decided to become intimate with him on this day…no wonder Frank was so particular about the fact that their intimacy occurred in the morning. His baby wasn't a baby anymore!

"Bwuht's ong?" a muffled Frank asked, a bit worried about Gerard's reaction. He was hugging him, that much he knew. But what for? Had he figured things out, or was there something else going on?

Gerard chuckled, forgetting that Frank hadn't been inside his head and therefore knew nothing of his latest epiphany. He replied by planting kisses alongside Frank's baby-smooth cheeks, rolling Frank around on the bed. Frank squealed and giggled underneath him once he knew for sure Gerard's reasoning for the mini attack, and returned the small kisses.

"You shithead!" Gerard chastised him, and Frank giggled as he blushed. "You turn eighteen today, don't you? Don't you?" he asked again, holding Frank tightly. Frank nodded, since it was the only thing he could do. Gerard continued squashing the young man as he squealed, "Happy Birthday, baby!"

"Funko," Frank genuinely replied, his face against Gerard's chest. They embraced each other, with Gerard kissing Frank all over the place. Sure Frank was uncomfortable a bit from last night's activities, but he chose to be beneath Gerard any day. If he died there, he'd be happy. However, Gerard finally sat up, keeping Frank pinned down.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, playfully pinching Frank. Frank grew red from embarrassment, but Gerard wouldn't have him off the hook that easily. Determined to get an answer from Frank, Gerard began attacking Frank's sides with his fingers. Frank jolted from his touch, shrieking madly.

"I'm waiting," Gerard sang, and Frank threw his head back, giggling.

"Itwasn'timportantatthetime!" he quickly explained in one breath, giggling in the next. His hands went for Gerard's own, hoping to stop the elder man before he let out another crazy outburst.

After hearing Frank's words, however, he stopped. Did Frank really mean it? He hadn't thought his birthday was important at all? He didn't want Frank to fall that far into relapse again. He could remember the first time he met Frank and asked him about himself, and all of Frank's responses were along the lines of, 'It doesn't matter.' He had hoped that at least after Frank's time with him, something would start to matter to the young boy.

Apparently not.

"Frank, what do you mean?" he asked, his hands retreating from his boyfriend's waist. Frank let his head rest against the bed as he regained his breath, putting his hands over his stomach. He blushed again, unsure of how to answer. He tried wracking his brain for another way to tell Gerard without having to state the obvious.

"Um…it wasn't a priority?" he tried, raising a brow.

"Frankie, take a look at who you're telling that to," Gerard said, waving his arms around. "If anything has something to do about you, I wanna know it. Even if it's about you breathing, I want to know."

"We…we were busy," Frank tried one final time.

"Doing what?" Gerard asked, and Frank giggled at how oblivious Gerard had been. That had just gone right over his head, hadn't it? "Didn't you just hear what I said?" Gerard continued asking, and Frank couldn't keep quiet. He should have expected as much from Gerard. Immediately, the day he asked Gerard to be his boyfriend came into his mind, and he chuckled once more. This was so like him.

"We were kinda busy fucking," Frank sheepishly admitted to a shocked Gerard, after his laughter died down.

"Shut up," Gerard demanded after a moment, nudging Frank. Frank's grin wouldn't falter, though, and Gerard soon had one on his own face. "No way."

"Yeah, Way," Frank replied. "Way, way, way, way, Way!"

"Stop shitting me, Iero!" Gerard exclaimed, grinning.

"We were indeed fucking," Frank assured him, raising his brows in a convincing manner. "My ass kids you not."

"Number one, were weren't fucking," Gerard insisted once more, straddling Frank.

"We were busy 'making love.' Happy?"

"Yeah," Gerard said, smiling as he intertwined their fingers together. "And number two…stop shitting me!"

"I'm not!" Frank insisted, the smile plastered on his face. "I remember every second, Gee," he sincerely added, rubbing the elder's arm. "You were right above me, holding me kind of how you are now…right about to give me the best 'love' of my life…"

"You don't say it like that," Gerard said, laughing.

"It sounds funny, doesn't it?" Frank agreed, and Gerard nodded. With Gerard falling for the trap, Frank continued, "Which is exactly why I use the word fuck."

"I'd rather you sound completely awkward," Gerard laughed, and Frank raised a brow.

"So I can say 'love me'?" Frank asked, to which Gerard nodded. "And that's completely fine?"

"Yup," Gerard agreed, his hands gently cradling Frank's body.

"What if I want to say 'love me so hard'?" Frank asked, being silly. "Or 'love me until I scream'?"

"Haha," Gerard dryly commented, bending down to kiss Frank at his cheek.

"You see, that'd sound a whole lot better if I said 'fuck me—'''

"Frankie!" Gerard exclaimed, giggling.

"It's true," Frank simply stated, and Gerard blushed.

"Well, I don't believe you about your birthday," Gerard stated, going back on track. The smile wouldn't wipe off his face, though. Frank was obviously in a good mood, and it was wearing on him, too.

"We were going at it at 2:43A.M.," Frank bluntly insisted, instantly getting back on track, despite the slight tangent. "And I remember thinking, 'Damn. Two hours and forty minutes into it, and I'm finally gonna to be yours—''

"Stop lying!" he hissed, smiling at Frank.

"I didn't even think about the fact that I had officially turned eighteen two minutes before, but I was preoccupied, and it was so perfect too," Frank continued, his mind already thinking back into the wee hours of the morning as an idle smile was imprinted on his face. "You were so…you are so amazing. Perfect birthday present from the perfect man, Gee, if I do say so myself."

"Frank," Gerard whispered in pure shock. "You've got to be kidding me." Frank looked up lovingly at Gerard, shaking his head as his boyfriend bit his lower lip.

"So you were born—''

"October 31, at 2:41A.M.," Frank verified, reciting the information that Gerard would find on his birth certificate. Gerard's smirk would not leave his face as Frank's blush deepened. Gerard attached his lips to Frank's body, lovingly littering the boy with kisses.

"I just hope that the experience was half as good for you as it was for me," Frank admitted nervously, to which Gerard promptly responded by snaking his tongue between Frank's lips. Frank let Gerard's tongue thrust into his mouth, passionately moaning into the action as he gripped Gerard's face. He gave a grunt and threw his head back as he felt Gerard's hands roam his body, and Gerard took the chance to deepen the kiss.

Frank was his, in every sense of the word now. Just the mere fact was uplifting, and if Frank wasn't in half the pain he was in currently, he'd re-demonstrate his appreciation. But kissing him was just as good. Feeling Frank whimper into the kiss was intoxicating. Feeling Frank cling to him was invigorating. And feeling Frank's breath against his lips was vitalizing.

Eventually, Gerard pulled away and retreated to sucking feverishly at Frank's neck. Frank shuddered as he brought another hand to grip Gerard at his side, sighing euphorically as Gerard moaned against his skin. If he wasn't still aching a bit from this morning, he would have turned their little make out session into another 'love' making situation. He badly wanted one, but he knew if he did engage in one now, he'd be completely wiped out for the rest of the day. So instead, he grinned against Gerard's forehead as the elder retreated. Gerard felt his smile and nibbled at Frank's lower neck, smiling as well.

"I hope I've answered your question," Gerard murmured, tenderly marking Frank's neck once more. Frank sighed into Gerard's hold, snuggling and making himself comfortable.

"Uh-hm," he verified, smiling as he sheepishly bit his lower lip.


	46. Total Eclipse of the Heart

**Total Eclipse of the Heart **

Dan shook his head as he heard Frank's laughter echo throughout the motel, trying to block out the noise. All he wanted was a little bit of sleep. Was that too much to fucking ask for?

The whole day yesterday, and even this morning, visitors that had passed Room 16 stared at it suspiciously; Dan knew that they all had the same thing in mind. With every visitor, Dan had to assure him or her that nothing was wrong. Even the Chinese store and the Café next to his motel were asking a few questions. But the questions were becoming too many, and he was very tempted to put a 'Closing Down' sign in front of the door. It wasn't like there was an increase in visitors anyway. In fact, he now had an empty motel after the last couple, some guy and his girl, left three hours ago. Currently, it was just Frank and Gerard…and him, of course. He just had to keep his profile (as well as theirs) low and assure people that nothing was wrong or suspicious with Frank and Gerard at his motel. Dan had to lie to people trying to warn him and turn the gay couple in; he had told them all that he already called police and reported the couple, but the police scolded him for a false alarm and that Gerard and Frank weren't the people they were looking for.

Of course it was a major lie, but he got them all to leave, didn't he? In fact, he wasn't at all surprised he barely had any tenants now, after all the noise Frank and Gerard had made last night. If it wasn't for the shocking resemblance to the 'Missing People' on T.V. that scared his latest visitors away, it definitely was the noise.

Maybe that was the reason for his foul and slightly irritated attitude. Dan never thought he'd be able to sleep with all the noise those two had made. In fact, he hadn't been able to sleep until a few hours ago, but then Gerard came down and asked him for a favor. He hadn't realized it was Gerard until he felt his hands on his shoulder. Gerard had stepped down the stairs with a consistent light thud, and from the lack of sleep due to his visitor's late night activities last night Dan had assumed the gay couple was at it again, until he felt someone tap his shoulder. In response, he looked up to see the man responsible for the bags under his eyes and his lack of focus.

Even if he hadn't heard the entire ruckus last night, he would've known regardless that Gerard had gotten laid. It was written all over his face. Plus, his voice was dripping with ecstasy, although he seemed so broken the days before. He knew it was only a matter of time before his 'high' would wear off, but he said nothing when Gerard beamed and commented on how happy he was, and how everything was so perfect. Just because reality was going to bite him in the ass, it didn't mean that he had to personally partake in it.

Now Gerard was back up, and it seemed like the couple was going to stay up there all day. Gerard's spiffy attitude never let up, although it seemed to Dan that Frank felt the same way he did also. Dan could hear Frank now, the little pessimist, ruining Gerard's pleasant mood. But, in Frank's defense, Gerard was kinda asking for it. The whole day, he could hear Gerard cajoling Frank and trying to convince the pessimist of going out and having fun. Of course (not to mention reasonably as well) he refused, and Gerard kept insisting. However, Gerard started limiting the possibilities down to a walk or two inside the motel instead of out in the open. He'd changed the types of 'fun' he wanted he and Frank to have when Trish and Jason, that couple, had checked out, sneaking Gerard a glance. Luckily, Gerard had noticed and restrained himself from letting his happiness take complete control.

"Frankie, let's go out for a second, eh?" Gerard's persistent offer was still going on, and Frank replied for the hundredth time with another bullshit answer.

"Just let the commercial finish," he replied, 'absorbed' in the television show they were watching. "I'm sure it'll come back on. I wanna see what's gonna happen."

"And then we'll walk around?"

"And then we'll walk around," Frank absently replied, giving Gerard his word through an empty promise. It was the same every hour. Gerard and Frank had this conversation an hour ago…and the hour before that…and the hours before those as well. But the older man kept at it, constantly reminding Frank that he was still waiting for that walk.

But as the next couple of hours rolled around and Frank kept dodging Gerard's questions, it became more obvious to Gerard that Frank wasn't interested, and that he was purposely avoiding the central issue. Gerard couldn't see it at first, but Dan could. It was obvious that Gerard was ecstatic; however Frank didn't want to burst his bubble and flat out depress Gerard with reality. During one time when Gerard left to pick up their lunch (another favor on Dan's part), he could hear Frank's television speak about the advances in the case, and how some people had already called police, leading them to around this area. Dan gave them five more days before police would crowd his motel, and he was sure Gerard had the same feeling. Somehow, whatever he and Frank did last night was enough to block out his common sense, but he badly needed it now.

And it was made apparent to Gerard, three hours to midnight, when Frank finally spoke up.

* * *

"I want us to go trick-or-treating," Gerard lazily tried again, tracing patterns on Frank's bare chest. They'd stayed cooped in all day, and by this point Frank's hickies were becoming less red and more purple. But they were still beautiful, nonetheless, and Frank seemed to be proud of them, usually initiating the act of Gerard's fingers over his hickies.

"Hm," Frank replied thoughtfully, holding one of Gerard's idle hands tightly. He watched as the screen went blank, due to the power being clicked off by his boyfriend. "I guess that'd be cool…" he started, pondering the thought. What more could he do? At least with the television on, he could pretend to be busy and preoccupied…but now? There were no distractions to aid him in avoiding Gerard's questions.

His birthday was great, but he couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. The two of them had spent the whole day in bed, doing nothing but watching old movie re-runs. He felt safe in Gerard's arms…but he wasn't happy; in fact, he was far from it. The more the day went on, the more worrisome he became about Gerard. His boyfriend had treated him out, occasionally murmuring how happy he was and how perfect he felt about today, and how he was the only thing that mattered…Sure, it would have been nice to hear such things (he'd dreamt of Gerard murmuring such things for months) said about him, but he felt extremely selfish. What about his baby brother Mikey? Had Frank been Mikey, he would have been extremely jealous over the dude that his brother was showering with affection. It hadn't been more than two days since Mikey's death had been made public, and all Mikey got were a few tears. Like Frank said, had he been Mikey, he would have been jealous.

Plus, it was his fault Mikey was dead. The least he could do was pay the dude some respect. He, personally, hadn't really done anything. Instead, he was soaking up all of Gerard's attention; he had to admit, it was odd to be showered with the attention and care Gerard was giving him. He didn't even realize how much of a spoiled child he was acting like, until Gerard stepped out the room to pick up their Chinese food from Dan's desk. It was then when he boredly flipped television stations to find another movie. Lo and behold, there was Gerard and he, the Missing Persons all of Central and Northern Jersey were looking for.

And Frank had seen the figure of a vaguely familiar apartment (which he soon learned was Gerard and Mikey's own) while the reporter continued speaking about Mikey's untimely death and his 'private' funeral. According to some tipsters from America's Most Wanted, he and Gerard had been spotted in Southern Jersey as well as in Pennsylvania (which was far from true, but good for the two of them). Not to mention the fact that Frank's 'favorite place to be' was apparently the beach…?

In all seriousness, viewing the clips made him come down from his cloud nine and back onto the hard and cold pavement. People that thought they had ever seen him or Gerard before were going to help the police. It was inevitable. All Frank could think about were all the people both he and Gerard encountered every day in hiding. What about the people at the motel? Around the motel? The Chinese store? The Café? The bank he traveled to, and all the people he bumped into along the way? All the people in New York? That subway, the fucking subway had video cameras, didn't it?

The only problem was that he now had to make sure Gerard was on the same level as him. He'd tried to do so subtly, declining one offer after another. But now, he was stuck, and he didn't know what to do, or what to say. If Frank had forgotten at all about what his actions caused, he was now well reminded. It was only fair for him to let Gerard know where he stood. He was deeply in love with Gerard, but Gerard had to put his brother before him, not the way things were now. He only hoped that Gerard hadn't been faking everything all along, just because he felt like he had to. Sure, it was his birthday, but Mikey had been killed. It was only fair for Frank to let Gerard properly mourn over his little brother.

"What happened to all the enthusiasm?" Gerard joked, poking his boyfriend and bringing him back from his distant and depressing thoughts. Frank chuckled nervously before he responded to Gerard.

"Never tried it," he admitted, smiling shyly.

"Have you ever gotten candy?" Gerard asked suspiciously. There was no way Frank had never gone trick-or-treating…then again, knowing where Frank came from, Frank's response was completely plausible. In verification, Frank gave a brief nod.

"But it's because people bought it for me," Frank replied quickly and quietly, obviously trying to get over the fact.

"Like who?" Gerard asked, and Frank gave a shrug.

"People."

Gerard took the hint and decided he wouldn't press it further. He knew he'd get extremely jealous if there was more to the 'candy' than he wanted to know about. Plus, it seemed like the topic was getting Frank uncomfortable.

"So…have you ever dressed up?" he asked, trying to avoid the detail. Frank shook his head and Gerard gasped. "No dress up? Ever?"

"Um…no. Not really…" Frank had dressed up on Halloween before—hell, every Halloween he was with Pete the fucker dressed him up—but he was almost 100% sure Gerard wasn't referring to that kind of dress up.

"So what did you do on Halloween?" Gerard asked. Besides the obvious, Gerard silently added, although there was no need for him to. They both knew what the other wanted to say.

"Nothing," Frank whispered, his shame taking hold. "I, um…stay inside…" And then Pete gets a fuck from me.

"Aw, Frankie!" Gerard exclaimed, hugging Frank tightly. Frank didn't wince too much, now used to the dull ache. Gerard rubbed Frank's back, insisting, "We need to do something tonight."

"Like what?" Frank asked, scoffing and hopefully prolonging the process…he didn't know how he'd break the depressing news to Gerard yet, and he didn't want to have to. "I don't need a walk. I'm fine."

"I want you to celebrate Halloween the way you should have celebrated it all this time." Gerard got up from the bed and walked over toward the closet, finding his flip-flops and pulling out a shirt to cover his bare chest.

"Gerard…"

"I want you to go out, trick-or-treat, eat candy, get hyper, be happy…"

"I am happy," Frank said, although it was a lie. He'd been happy before; he had to admit that…but not now. Plus, there was no sense in celebrating the way Gerard was suggesting. He would never be able to celebrate Halloween like every other kid did. He'd never done so while he was a kid, he didn't when he met Pete, and he certainly wouldn't now, not while they were all over the headlines. Nonetheless, Gerard continued.

"I want you to dress up in costume, paint your face…"

"Gee, all that is unnecessary."

"We've only got a few more days together, babe," Gerard said, wrapping his arms around Frank before retreating. "One more week until this will probably go down the drain…before we'll have to go back to reality…"

"Gerard, we are in reality," Frank stressed. He'd been dealing with this all day, but he couldn't now. He'd been thinking of ways to soften the blow, and all day he'd come up cold. And it was now the end of the day, and Gerard's mood hadn't shifted or changed on its own. He was going to have to change that.

Frank knew that if they went out now, there was a huge possibility, if not a guarantee, that the two of them would get caught. And Gerard sounded like he would go out if Frank agreed, which was why Frank had tried to avoid answering. He knew if Gerard pushed him hard enough, he'd succumb to his wishes (no matter how stupid they were). But he couldn't risk it. He had to hold on to his will power, for the both of them. If he gave in and said 'yes,' tonight would definitely be their last night together. In an attempt to bring Gerard down from his high cloud and into reality himself, Frank continued. "Two days ago, Gee, Mikey was killed—''

"…and we're here now, everything is perfect…"

"Babe, what are you talking about?"

"…I have you here, all I could ever want and need…"

"Gerard, stop it," Frank tried. "I know you're trying to—''

"How about the block down over by the river?" Gerard interrupted Frank, ruffling his hair. "We'll get lots of Skittles there, sugar. Remember the ice cream truck? Or maybe you wanna go by the lake instead?"

"I don't want Skittles or the lake, Gee," Frank insisted. "I want you."

"Come on, think babe," Gerard urged him, which was a bit ironic. Nonetheless, Frank decided not to point out the hypocrisy. "I know it's only for a little while, but everything is perfect now. And we can do whatever we want, even if it is for a limited amount of time."

"Everything is not perfect!" Frank finally insisted, forcefully shoving Gerard away from his body. "It's never been." Gerard's eyes widened in disbelief as he tried to register Frank's latest statement.

"Frankie, what do you mean…?"

"You're lying to yourself," Frank sadly stated, before he gave way to sniffling. But in order not to put on a show, he wiped his eyes before anything drastic happened, while he still had some control. All he had to do was let Gerard be on the same page as him, there was no crying in the job description. But he just couldn't help it. As much as he obviously needed to verbalize the situation to Gerard, it hurt more to admit it aloud. Their time was limited, and Gerard was going to jail soon. Plus, with the little time they did have, Gerard should have been allowed to properly mourn for the brother that Frank was responsible for killing. And to think, had they been in 'normal' situations, today would be a great day, no limitations attached. But they weren't in a normal situation, and he had to come to terms with that now, opening Gerard's eyes in the process. "You're lying to me."

"What do you mean, baby?" Gerard asked, completely oblivious to Frank's true concern, and a little bit confused by Frank's new mood. What had happened to make Frank so down? "I mean it when I say we only have a few days left—"

"I'm not even fucking talking about that!" Frank finally admitted, his eyes wide as well. "You think I don't know that my days of Paradise are soon over? That in about a week or so, I'll have to give you up and feed you to the dogs? That I'll never see you again? It's not even about me; I'm such a fucking selfish person. What about you and your losses? What about Mikey?''

"—and I want you to be as happy as possible," Gerard continued, ignoring Frank's rant. "This week is all about you. All I want is for you to enjoy the rest of your time, eating Skittles and celebrating your birthday the way you should be by trick-or-treating, dressing up, face painting…"

"Shut up." Frank demanded. He couldn't take it anymore. Sue him, but he didn't know how else to break it to Gerard. Plus, he wasn't in the best of states. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

"Frank, what's gotten into you?" Gerard asked, and Frank shook his head, dismissing Gerard's concern and confusion.

"How the hell will we ever be able to trick-or-treat, Gee?" Frank demanded, sitting up and getting out of Gerard's grasp. "We're on every fucking television channel!"

"I thought I told you not to put the television on those channels—''

"Going out now is just ludicrous!" Frank continued, tapping his own head as he interrupted Gerard. "And boo-fucking-hoo, I changed the channel while you were gone, looking for another movie to watch. And whaddayou know; we just happened to 'pop up' on the fucking screen! We can't leave this fucking motel! You know that. Dan knows that. Why else do you think he offered to get our lunch and dinner? And you agreed to it. Why can't you see these 'romantic walks' in the same light? Common sense, Gee. Common sense."

"I want you to enjoy the few days we have, babe," Gerard repeated, running his hands through his hair, slightly slipping off of his cloud due to Frank's yelling. How could he remain happy when Frank was as pissed as he was? "You come first," he softly continued. "Your happiness is always first with me."

"What about your sanity?" Frank asked, resting a hand on Gerard's thigh. He used his other hand to untangle Gerard's other hand from his hair and grasped it lovingly. "I may be easily distracted, but I've noticed. You've been cooped up inside ever since Mikey's death. I haven't seen you cry, Gee. I haven't seen you release anything. I don't want your brains to fry up."

"I cried while you were gone. But I was crying for you, too," Gerard admitted, trying to shift some of the weight. "And you're back now."

"Mikey's not." Frank waited for Gerard's reaction but, to his disappointment, Gerard remained the same.

"Yeah…but you are," he reiterated. "And I'm not gonna cry forever. What's crying gonna do for anyone?"

"Baby, you need to let it out and cry."

"I did, while you were gone."

"You need to cry some more," Frank insisted. "I can see it; trust me, I would know. And I also know you're trying to hold it in because of me. You don't need to do that. Please, baby."

"You do it all the time for me," Gerard responded, shrugging and avoiding eye contact.

"Of course I do it all the time," Frank retaliated. "But do you see how messed up I am?"

"I've cried already," Gerard snapped. "How many times do I gotta say the same thing? Drop it."

"You haven't cried long enough because I came back," Frank said. "Is that what you're telling me? Because if that's true, I should have left for a longer time."

"What good is it gonna fucking do to cry over Mikey now?" Gerard demanded coldly, both from annoyance at Frank's reasoning and Frank's little threat. "He's dead. Now tell me; why's he dead?"

"Because of me," Frank somberly responded.

"No. Because of me," Gerard corrected. "Why are you here? Why are we here? Well, I'll tell you why: because of me. It all comes back to me. I can't cry. I don't deserve to cry. It doesn't do anything for anyone."

"Wrong," Frank interrupted. "It does something for you."

"I don't care anymore! I want to end this stupid conversation, Frank," Gerard demanded. "I wanted us to have some fucking fun, okay?"

"How can I have fun when I know you're miserable?" Frank asked unbelievably. Bringing Gerard's hands to his lips and softly kissing his boyfriend, he whispered, "I can wait, babe."

"Fine," Gerard angrily gave in, backing up against the wall and hitting it loudly for effect. "We'll have some fucking fun in jail, then. How does that sound?"

"Exactly," Frank agreed, not at all hurt by Gerard's sarcastic remark. He could make that happen if he needed to. Money can solve a lot of problems…usually.

"Frank, you aren't headed there," Gerard slowly explained, shaking his head. "I am."

"If you go to jail, I swear I'll go to jail with you," Frank promised. "It's only fair."

"What do you mean by 'fair'?" Gerard demanded. "You haven't done anything." Frank shrugged, holding Gerard's arms. "Take back your swear," he childishly insisted.

"No," Frank refused. "True, I haven't done anything, but neither have you," Frank pointed out. "Like I said, I want things to be fair." Dismissing Frank's claims, Gerard sighed, angrily resting his head on the wall as he leaned against it.

"So what is it you wanna do now?" Gerard boredly asked, "instead of having fun…humor me."

"I just wanna talk," Frank innocently responded, holding Gerard's hand. Gerard grouchily shrugged him off. He was tempted to give in and sob into Frank's chest, gripping his angel tightly as he cried a thousand rivers over Mikey's death. But that was out of the question. He would have before, but not now; not when he had to stand up for the both of them. They needed to stay strong; he needed to stay strong. He needed to have Frank feel as comfortable as ever, now that the countdown was down to a couple of days, at the most.

"I want you to get better before I can think of doing anything else," Frank murmured, getting up to embrace Gerard and rub his cheek against Gerard's own.

"And if it takes me weeks to mourn? Months?"

"We'll mourn for years, if it takes," Frank assured him, kissing Gerard's cheek now. Instead, Gerard yanked his cheek away and growled.

"What don't you understand about the fact that we—you and I—only have a few days left together?" Gerard asked. "I don't like this 'idea' you have in your head, Frankie. I can cry all I fucking want without you 'interrupting me' in jail."

"I love you very much, sweetie," Frank retaliated, "but I don't like the idea in your head either. We can still have fun talking, Gee. You can mourn over your brother now. Don't think about me so much at the moment. We don't need to go out, especially when that means our time will be shortened even more. Think about that. I mean, if we went ahead and did what you wanted, we'd be out there—out—trick-or-treating. How insane are you? Do you want to just…just turn yourself in? Is that really what you want to do?"

By the end of his sentence, Frank's voice had cracked. He hadn't even noticed that he was on the verge of crying. As much good as Gerard turning himself in would do, he still didn't want Gerard to go ahead with that plan. He was being a complete hypocrite, opening Gerard's eyes to the present situation yet refusing to give him the easy and best way out. It was completely selfish of him, he knew, but he was only human. Gerard was his, and there was no fucking way it'd ever be easy to give him up.

As Frank cleared his throat and dried threatening tears, Gerard huffed. "I refuse to talk to you," Gerard finally snapped, childishly crossing his arms. There was not much he could say. Frank was making complete sense. He, on the other hand, was not. He knew that. But for some reason, his stubbornness would not let him drop it. He wanted to go out with Frank and let him experience Halloween himself. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he'd always enjoyed that holiday as a kid, and it was the dude's birthday. Come on. The only way he'd ever celebrated it was by unwillingly getting fucked by Pete. And then today, the same thing happened, only it was Gerard instead of Pete (and he was pretty sure Frank wanted it as much as he did). It was a nice change of events in a sense; nonetheless, it kinda bothered him that Frank celebrated his birthday in the same way (or method, in a sense) that he had years ago. What was Gerard doing better, if anything at all?

"If I had a brother," Frank slowly said, thinking his statement through, "the last thing I would think about is having 'fun'…and I'd probably hate the person forcing me to."

"No one's forcing me," Gerard stubbornly stated, rooted in his spot. Frank's sympathetic behavior was annoying him. "I want us to go out, so get your ass up."

"No, you sit yours down," Frank demanded in the same tone. "It's my birthday, and I don't wanna," he sheepishly explained afterwards, feeling bad for raising his voice at Gerard again. Gerard could yell at him; he was very stressed, after all. Frank, on the other hand, had no reason at all to yell. No one told him to bring up the subject, no matter how much he felt obliged to.

"Look Frankie," Gerard tiredly tried to explain. "Today is your birthday, so I wanted us to go around—''

"And risk getting caught?"

"—and treat you out," Gerard finished. "But instead, we stayed inside the whole day, in this same fucking room. I wanted you to enjoy it."

"I did," Frank replied. "I am." Gerard sighed, knowing that the conversation was going nowhere he wanted it to. "How could I not?" Frank continued as he looked up at his boyfriend, rubbing his thumb against Gerard's knuckles. "I had the best beginning I could dream of, and I was with you the whole day. Even if all we did do was watch re-runs on TV, I enjoyed today. If you haven't gotten the hint, Gee, all I want to do is be with you."

"My god, Frankie!" Gerard rolled his eyes and gave a frustrated sigh. That was it; that was the fucking last straw. He wasn't talking to Frank. Frank understood him too well, and he was too…too…Fuck it, he was way too caring, and Gerard could now (more than ever) see how easily someone could manage to take advantage of him. Frank was a teenager for fuck's sake. He was supposed to be into romantic things like taking walks outside, going on dates, and having fun…yet here they were, cooped up day after day doing nothing at all. Frank wasn't into the tangible things, but into the theoretical; he wasn't into meaningless sex, he was into love. True, the circumstances the two were in at the moment did not allow them to act how Gerard had thought of and imagined before. And, as explained earlier, that was all Gerard's fault.

"If we're not doing anything, then fucking let go of me so we can sleep," he snapped, and Frank gave a sad grin in response, releasing his boyfriend.

"Perfect idea," Frank agreed, staring up expectantly like a puppy admiring its new owner.

Despite Gerard's current frustration, he couldn't fight the urge and gently brushed away the lock of hair that covered Frank's enormous orbs. Frank remained beneath his boyfriend, looking at Gerard with such care and concern, that Gerard could tell how troubled Frank was despite the smile on his face. Gerard sighed, moving away from Frank. If anything, Frank always looked so vulnerable and lost beneath him, or beside him. And to know that he'd been yelling at him minutes before was slightly nerve-wracking. All Frank was trying to do was watch out for him, because he obviously was not in the right mind.

Gerard felt like such a complete screw-up. Why on Earth was Frank with him still?

First off, there was the subject of school. School had started for a good two months now, almost three. And in a couple days, the two of them would have been together for four months. Four months of hiding (God bless Dan), four months of lying, and four months of depriving Frank from his family, no matter what Frank said. It didn't matter if Frank's parents bothered his boyfriend. He still felt responsible for separating Frank from his parents; it was wrong. He had ruined Frank's life. This whole 'kidnaper-rapist-murderer' ordeal would forever be in Frank's file, his face forever in the media. True, he kidnapped Frank because of Pete, but things didn't have to go to the extent that things did. He could have simply reported Pete.

Then again, if he had followed through with that, he'd never know or hear from Frank again. He'd kidnapped Frank to ensure that they could see each other still. A stupid move, now that he reflected on it, but very much so worth it…at least, in his eyes. Then again, it wasn't his own life that he'd just ruined, now was it?

Plus, he had to consider the question of other's safety. Because of his selfishness, Mikey had perished. Because of him, Mikey's body had been rotting away for a days before anyone noticed something was fishy—or until Pete decided enough was enough and he wanted his 'fuck toy' back 'now.' Gerard wanted to kill that fucker. Maybe then he'd have a legitimate reason to go to jail.

Well, taking into light everything that did happen, going to jail was what he got and deserved for practically killing Mikey and for basically kidnapping Frank. He deserved every bit that reality had in store for him, despite what Frank thought about 'fair.'

Angrily, he sighed and kicked off his flip-flops, heading back to the closet. He slipped into his pajamas and noisily got into bed before shutting the lights off, while Frank gave a tsk-tsk before snuggling into bed himself.

Frank had managed to do it; Gerard was officially off of his 'Cloud Nine.' This day, that had started off wonderfully, had gone down the drain. That's what he got for trying to put Mikey at the back of his mind. He could imagine his little brother crossing his arms in Heaven (because there was no other place for a person like him), as frustrated as he was the first day Gerard had carried Frank over to their home. That was so like Mikey. And damn him, even through death he managed to bring Gerard sense. This time, however, it was through Frank, who had clearly known it was right but didn't want to say anything about it.

"It's not going to work," Frank quietly warned Gerard as he shifted his position on the bed. He gave a slight wince in response to the slight dull ache in his ass (going into an awkward position that he hadn't done in a while), and Gerard responded with a nonchalant grunt. "Even if you plan on ignoring me, I'd rather be here than anywhere else," Frank continued, giving a sigh. "Plus, you aren't ruining my birthday enough for me to agree with your crazy ideas. You and I both know."

"Go to sleep," Gerard mumbled, turning in a certain way in order to somehow forcefully spoon Frank and get him to shut up. He tightly held Frank and directed him to lie on his side, and Frank gave a chuckle in response to the manhandling, but nestled comfortably into Gerard's firm mold.

"I told you all we'd be doing is sleeping if we didn't go out and have fun," Gerard said, and Frank remained smiling. He knew where Gerard was heading with this, but it wasn't going to work. Gerard knew his 'Mr. Mean' was doomed to fail when Frank responded sweetly at him the next second.

"And I don't mind that at all," Frank told him, contentedly rubbing Gerard's strong arms. Gerard shook him off.

"Sleep," Gerard grouchily demanded, and Frank chuckled once more. Three to four months ago (if this had happened with Pete) he'd be frozen stiff in fear. But things were different now. He loved this man to pieces, and he knew that whatever Gerard did, his heart was in it, and always for his best interest. Gerard was his saint.

"Fine," Frank dreamily agreed, snuggling into the hard embrace as he forced himself to drift off. "I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping…"

* * *

It wasn't until Frank drifted off into his slumber, though, did Gerard let his thoughts consume him. He had descended from Cloud Nine now, with Frank's words marking his brain and conscious. He had been postponing his reactions, and Frank had been right. Not entirely, but he was right about the fact that he hadn't mourned his brother properly. It was slowly eating away at him. But there was no room for mourning.

As soon as he had learned about Mikey, the dilemma with Frank came up. And then, he'd been so worried about Frank that when Frank showed up again, he desperately, and quite fervently, made love to him as well. And then, there was today…

Tomorrow, he planned to devote all his time and energy on Frank. He would gladly accept anything to get Mikey off of his mind. When this was over, he could cry all he wanted. Because whenever he thought of Mikey, he thought of the dreaded images, and when he thought of those images, he thought of Pete, and when he thought of Pete, he thought of his beloved Frankie, and when he thought of his little angel and the devil he was with…

Tears overwhelmed his eyes as he protectively rubbed Frank's shoulder. The young adult snuggled within Gerard's grasp as the elder lay behind him, crying. Mikey's death was his own fault, and he should have seen it coming. Pete had warned him with, 'Mikey, or Frankie?' And he'd chosen Frank over him, his own brother, hadn't he? That was the reason why Mikey was dead, wasn't it?

You didn't chose anyone over anybody, a voice rang in his head. You never told Pete anything. Pete hadn't given him a chance to act. But both Pete and Gerard knew that he wasn't going to give Frank up so easily. So if Pete planned to kill Mikey, it was only a matter of time before he actually went through with it.

He couldn't help but wonder what his brother's last thoughts had been. The news reporters had claimed that Mikey'd been shot three times; he was shot once in the head, and once in the leg, as well as his chest somewhere.

Would you look at that? He wasn't even sure! He was such a shitty brother.

He badly hoped Mikey didn't go through too much pain. Hopefully, his brother had been shot in the head before any of the pain could bother him. But he knew that wasn't the case. Why would someone start off at the head and then waste shots on the leg, after the person was dead? It was completely obvious that the shot to the leg was for pain, before he finished him off with the shots to the head and chest. Even then, the least Pete could have done for Mikey's sake was to make the shots quick and painless. But of course, this was Pete he was talking about.

Gerard unwillingly let out a sob as he began rocking Frank back and forth. So much was going on right now, and if he wasn't careful (like he clearly hadn't been today), their time together would all be over in a blink of an eye. So many news stations had linked him to his brother's death, saying that he had murdered Mikey. How on Earth could they believe he'd do such a thing? But he knew the person that was truly behind the crime, and he knew that person would have his way; he was sure Pete had some sort of evidence to incriminate him. Either that, or Pete'd use his undercover business.

Sex can be a very powerful tool, sometimes. A guy like Pete never had 'too many' connections. It was only in Pete's field of work that knowing the best friend of an uncle's son's daughter's best friend's cousin would be significant; because no one, especially not someone in power, wants his or her sex secrets out in the open. Unfortunately, Pete knew them all, and he knew how to use the information to get what he wanted. So if Pete knew and was able to trace the best friend of an uncle's son's daughter's best friend's cousin, that cousin was screwed.

Kind of like what happened to Mikey.

But if anything, Gerard was not going to give up now. Not while Mikey was dead and not while he still had a chance to fix things—no matter how limited the time was—with Frank. He only wished that he'd had that time to fix things with Mikey, before his untimely death. He wished he had a chance to thank him for all the help he'd given him in the past, and in the present day. He wanted to thank him for being the perfect little brother; there would never be another that would match up to him. And there was no other older brother in the world that treated Mikey worse than how he did. As tears silently spilled down his face, he hoped that somewhere up there, Mikey had forgiven him.

Frank gave a light moan, feeling and hearing Gerard sob against his body. Instinctively, Frank woke up, grasping onto Gerard and rubbing his arm.

"Shhh," he cooed. "It's okay, baby," he hummed repeatedly, entangling his arms around Gerard's body. "It's okay, shhhh."

"I killed him!" Gerard sobbed, his chest rattling. "I killed Mikey, Frankie."

"No you didn't," Frank responded, pulling himself closer as he planted kisses on Gerard's tear-stricken face. "Don't say that," he murmured.

"I want that fucker to die a painful and miserably death," Gerard spat, snuffling. "I want to blow his fucking brains out. I want him to suffer, Frank. And I feel so fucking horrible because I know that Mikey wouldn't approve," Gerard continued. "I'm supposed to be his 'big brother,' I'm supposed to help people, give them the benefit of the doubt…but I want him to hurt so fucking much. I'll enjoy watching him scream in pain, Frankie." Gerard sniffled, letting the silence consume his thoughts as many scenarios ran through his head. "Fuck, I'm such a bad person…"

"No you're not," Frank assured him. "I want the fucker to die, too. And it'll happen…trust me."

"Don't worry about it…'' Gerard said, dismissing him as he tried to gain control of his emotions. But he failed miserably as he felt tears of Frank's own against his forehead.

Gerard sobbed, burying his head in the crook of Frank's neck. For once, Frank felt like he was the one who had things under control, even if he was crying a bit. He was helping Gerard feel better now, not the other way around. He felt powerful. Most importantly, he felt useful. And his services to Gerard would extend further than in this room and at this moment.

If worst came to worst and Gerard was convicted, Pete was going to be sorry that he ever laid eyes on Frank. Frank wasn't the same pushover he was when Gerard first came across his pitiful ass, and Pete was going to learn that the hard way if anything happened to Gerard because of this.

"I love you," Gerard murmured, before hugging Frank tightly. He was more in control of his feelings now, and his vision was less hazy. His whole little murder rant that he'd made wasn't from his right state of mind, and he just had a few days to go. Just a few more days he had to hold it up…and then he could cry in his cell. Or if he couldn't wait until then, he'd just have to find a quieter way to cry at night: one that didn't wake Frank up and get him worried as well. Of course, he'd never kill Pete and Pete would probably never pay for what he did, but it was a nice thing to wish for.

"I-I love y-you too," Frank replied, biting his lip in order to reduce his sobs. He nuzzled his head into Gerard's chest, cuddling with Gerard.

"F-Frank, sleep," Gerard quietly urged, rocking Frank as the roles switched. "I'm sorry I woke you up, sweetie. We'll talk a-about it in the m-morning, okay?" Frank nodded, but kept to the task of controlling his sobbing, not even fully aware that the roles had switched and that Gerard was now comforting him.

Of course that last part of Gerard's statement was a lie, or an intended lie. "Come on. Y-you're a big boy now," Gerard continued, trying to calm Frank down. "Don't go to sleep crying on y-your first day of m-manhood," he tried to even joke.

All it did was make Frank cry some more. Things were just so screwed up. What was worst was the fact that the two of them had sex together yesterday, which was the reason for their amazing 'high' today, earlier this morning. What the 'high' failed to do, however, was to acknowledge the obvious downward spiral surrounding them. Instead, they had been in a fantasy world, believing that everything was okay and 'perfect,' as both he and Gerard put it so many times.

Gerard and he had been happy, but Frank felt like Gerard was happy for the wrong reason. And as the day went by, Frank came to his senses, viewing himself and Gerard on television. If anything, Frank began to feel like an intruder. What made things worse was that their time together was significantly limited, now that almost all of New Jersey was looking out for them—for Gerard. And, he was never one to easily give Gerard up, but things became so much harder after sharing an intimate moment like they had. Gerard was everything to him, and damn him for being selfish at times, but he didn't want their time to be over. If he could, they would remain on the run forever. However, he wasn't keeping in mind how that would affect Dan, or any other people (like in poor Mikey's case), or Gerard himself. But Gerard was all he wanted, all he needed, and if he could have things his way, that was how things were gonna be.

But that couldn't happen, or wouldn't happen, because in the long run, Gerard's happiness was all that mattered. And it seemed highly plausible at this point that Gerard was tired of the hiding, despite his apparent tries to keep Frank 'happy.' His days were numbered; Frank couldn't blame him if he felt like handing himself in. No matter how much he didn't want it to happen, he could sense that would be the final result. And when that day came, he'd have to deal with it.

Frank let the thoughts consume his mind as he felt Gerard's soothing hands work magic on his back. The two of them only had a couple of days left together. There was no need to be so optimistic about the situation now, not when the state police was involved, as well as news stations and television shows like America's Most Wanted. He hadn't seen the AMW show yet, be he could almost guarantee that the two of them would be shown on the show.

But in the end of it all, Gerard cradled a peacefully sleeping Frank. He watched as Frank fitfully forced himself into slumber, a look of concern etched on his beautiful features. His tense mood affected the way he held onto Gerard, even. He was clutching his boyfriend tightly; not that Gerard minded. He was in the same state of mind as well. Something Frank had said had gotten to him. Would he…better yet, did he want to turn himself in? Would he do that to himself, after trying to hard to keep quiet? After Mikey lost his life? Would he do that to his Frankie?

The answer was never. He could never betray Frank like that, and he couldn't have Mikey die in vain, either. If he were to give himself in, why hadn't he done so earlier, when that would have made a difference? He, Gerard felt, was not in any position to give himself in. He didn't want to, and the fact that Frank could suggest such a thing meant that his boyfriend wasn't sure of what he (Gerard) truly wanted. If that was the case, then he had to change a few things from now on, and show Frank where he stood on the matter of their future life…even if it was to last only a couple of days more.

Left alone to drown in his thoughts and set priorities straight again, he was determined to have Frank enjoy the last couple of days that they had together, no matter what.


	47. Never Going 'Home'

**Never Going 'Home' **

Gerard woke up to breakfast in bed…sort of.

It was the smell of coffee that invaded his nostrils first, waking him up. The older man took a deep breath, inhaling the intoxicating scent of coffee as he stretched his arms. While he arched his back, his eyes opened to catch Frank's worried gaze. However, as soon as Gerard saw the coffee in his boyfriend's arms, he smiled, his prior concern for Frank vanishing for a brief moment. It was nice to wake up and smell coffee first thing in the morning, as well as seeing his angel stand before him…although he would have preferred to see Frank lying beside him. But having Frank stand in front of him in nothing but his boxers had its benefits as well.

"Good morning, babe," Gerard greeted him, stifling a yawn. He remained protected from Frank's nervous behavior as Frank turned around, his back facing Gerard as he prepared his coffee, sweating. He wasn't sure how Gerard would handle things. However, he knew no matter the problem or issue, he was in the wrong. After waking up last night and hearing Gerard stay up and cry, he felt bad. He shouldn't have pushed the issue of Mikey's death. Mikey was Gerard's brother after all. And, Gerard did bring up a valid point last night; he'd cried, he said, while Frank was gone. Just because Frank didn't witness it, didn't mean it didn't happen. Plus, Frank knew he was even lucky he hadn't been there for most Gerard's crying; the little Gerard cried last night completely broke him down. How on Earth did he expect himself to act when Gerard actually let his guard down and straight out bawled?

He had seen things finally from Gerard's point of view, and he wished he hadn't been so frickin' stubborn, because Gerard probably now saw things in his perspective as well. He should have known better, and Gerard should have continued to blow him off when it came to Mikey. He had every right to.

And while Frank slept last night, he realized how truly selfish he was. He didn't want Gerard in jail, yet he didn't want Gerard to stop running from the cops. He wanted Gerard to stay with him. In other words, he'd rather Gerard keep running and stay with him, instead of going back and possibly lowering his sentence and time in jail.

Deep down inside, he was a selfish and spoiled rich kid. Gerard had brought out the spoiled rich kid in him.

"I-I got you some coffee," Frank stuttered, turning around and slowly walking forward with the steaming liquid. He had the idea set in stone within his mind. He was going to use a 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy and forget about the fact that they (or Gerard, actually) were wanted by the state of New Jersey. Instead, whenever his boyfriend brought up the idea of reality, Frank would dismiss it. Yet, at the same time, he would not blindly accept whatever Gerard offered, unless the activities remained in Room 16 and only Room 16. He would never bring up the topic of Mikey on his own, or publicly voice the fact that they had limited time. They didn't have limited time; how could they when Frank wasn't going to let that happen?

As Frank neared the bed, Gerard remained in his position. At the sight of the coffee cup Frank held in his hand, Gerard's smile broadened. Frank had gotten him coffee, and he hadn't been dreaming! How fucking cute! Although, he felt like he owed Frank after last night. That was a much-needed release, on his part, and even though he had wanted to hide from it, Frank talked him back to reality. He had to thank him, but here Frank was (as usual) doing things the other way around. However, Gerard's mind wandered off a bit once more, to his amazement, when he saw what type of coffee Frank was holding.

"Starbucks?" Gerard asked, his throaty voice emitting a screech. He chuckled as Frank winced at the dry sound, and he jumped out of his comfortable position and automatically reached for the coffee. Frank handed it over to him, watching nervously. He couldn't tell if Gerard was extremely disgusted or extremely happy. With that screech, he could be feeling anything.

"Y-you like it?" Frank timidly asked, and Gerard looked at him as if he were crazy.

"Why the fuck wouldn't I?" he jokingly asked, before nodding his answer. In fact, he was so pumped for the coffee that he rose and got up to brush his teeth, eager to consume the drink. Frank remained rooted in the same spot for those five minutes while Gerard had been in the bathroom, contemplating on how to apologize and make things up to Gerard for bothering him yesterday. It wasn't his place…

Finally, Gerard exited the bathroom and smiled at Frank before heading back toward the nightstand where the coffee now was. He sniffed it before he took a sip, giving a blissful shudder as the warm liquid traveled down his throat and into his stomach, making him radiate with warmth. After the small reunion he sat back on the bed, giving his legs a stretch.

That sip of coffee did more than warm Gerard; with each sip, a wave of nostalgia took over his system, his mind traveling back to his past. Back when the least of his problems was waking up and going to school the next day, back when he had a nice roof over his head, and back when Mikey was alive, Starbucks coffee was the shit. And here his baby was, giving it to him after he'd been deprived of it for so long…

The question as to just how Frank managed to get the coffee was the least of his problems right now. He wasn't even sure how Frank knew exactly what coffee to get him. He racked his brain, trying to remember the last time he spoke to Frank about his coffee preferences, if ever. But he didn't remember such a time. Then again, there was a coffee shop no too far from the motel. He could have just gotten it because it was the closest…or maybe the Starbuck meant nothing to him. That's how Mikey did it; whatever was within range was 'good enough.'

He was taking a walk down memory lane. Inadvertently, his mind traveled back to when Mikey first bought him the addictive drink. Naturally, he'd hated it; Gerard pretty much hated anything new. The same applied to when Mikey first became his brother, when he first met Frank, and when he first heard of Skittles. Of course, he'd been converted to all three by outside influences. He'd learned to love and protect Mikey, and the same pertained to his boyfriend, the love of his life. He'd hated the job of watching over a confused teen; but he'd grown to love it, and now he couldn't live without doing so. And Skittles weren't as bad as some people made them out to be, especially not when he got to eat them from Frank's mouth.

"Mikey got me hooked on this shit…" he murmured to himself before attending to Frank, who stood nervously by the side of the bed. "Thank you, baby!" Frank gave a small smile but it didn't reach far enough, and Gerard could tell something was wrong. Just as he was about to ask his angel what was wrong, Frank spilled with apologies.

"I'm sorry about yesterday…and last night," Frank blurted, after hearing Gerard reminisce aloud on Mikey. "I shouldn't have pressed it, I'm so fucking sorry—''

"Frankie, it's okay," Gerard assured him, chuckling. Sure, he was a bit sore about the whole topic but that wasn't important at the moment. He knew where he was heading, and how he was going to get there. He needed the yelling from Frank; it got him refocused on his task, an eye-opener of the short time they had. He was sure they'd be encountering the police soon, and any time spent together was worthwhile. "I like the coffee. How'd you know? Where'd you even manage to find it…?" he asked, trying to change the topic.

"Dan," Frank simply replied, nervously wringing his fingers together. "I asked him what was the best coffee and he suggested this…Why? Is it bad coffee, Gee? Should I ask him to get another one? I don't go out for coffee, but I know Dunkin Donuts has some—"

"I said don't worry," Gerard stressed, dreamily taking another sip of the coffee. "It's amazing. You have no idea…"

"Y-you want a bagel?" Frank offered some more, pulling out a bagel to give his boyfriend. He'd had gotten a small bag of bagels (also courtesy of Dan) that was now on the table.

"Where…how…?"

"Dan," Frank briefly explained again, nearing the bed as he held the bagel. "You…y-you want?" he offered for a second time. Gerard nodded, smiling.

"Do you want?" Gerard offered, but Frank politely declined as he watched Gerard consume his mini-breakfast. He was still very wary on the fact that he had essentially forced Gerard to do everything he didn't want to. Gerard, on the other hand, kept drinking and chewing, occasionally gazing at Frank. His boyfriend seemed so uptight, despite the way he was treating him out. He hoped it had nothing to do with last night still. But as Frank remained in his stiff position, he had a dreaded feeling it did. And if it did, he was going to have to take measures to ensure he felt all right.

"Frank…what's wrong?" Gerard finally asked. "I hope it's still not about—"

"It's not…it's nothing, babe." Frank lied, forcing a smile. It was obvious how worried he was to Gerard, though. "I'm not sad about yesterday."

"I never said you were," Gerard said, smirking. "And now I know something is wrong."

"N-nothing." Frank grabbed his second coup of coffee and offered it to Gerard, stuttering his way out of another question. "N-Nothing is w-wrong. M-more coffee?"

"Fucking awesome!" Gerard exclaimed, smiling. He couldn't believe it; Frank had gotten him two coffee cups! Two cups of coffee! Starbucks coffee. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Don't get him wrong; he knew Frank was trying to distract him, but he couldn't contain his excitement for that coffee…and he had a feeling their conversation would come in full circle, and they'd end up on the same topic again soon enough.

Frank couldn't help smirking himself. His boyfriend had such a short attention span…or so he thought. It seemed to Frank that Gerard forgot about his uneasiness as he took another sip of his coffee and accepted the new cup. "Dude, how much was this?" the older man asked.

"Not much," Frank mumbled, "although I don't really know. I just…I, uh…gave Dan some money."

"Twenty bucks?"

"Two hundred," Frank admitted, giving a small chuckle as he saw Gerard's eyes bulge out of his head. But he stopped after giving it some thought while his boyfriend resumed to sipping his coffee. "Wh-why?" He finally asked, worried. Sure, it had been funny—the expression on Gerard's face—a second ago. But after he saw Gerard give a brief nod and continue to quietly sip his coffee, he had second thoughts. "Was it too much? I didn't know how much coffee was, and I wanted to factor other things into the equation, too. I shouldn't have…I'm so sorry, baby—"

"Frank, no…it's your money. It's okay…" Gerard took another quiet sip, completely resigned. It kind of boggled his mind how he could just give out two hundred dollars on whim like that, but this was a rich kid he was dealing with…a nice rich kid. Anything was possible, hence the fact that Frank was with someone like him.

The small fact that Frank was rich kinda escaped his mind during all the time they had with each other. He'd forgotten that minor detail. He'd never thought of Frank too much that way until those other letters popped up, and not until this moment either. It was only natural for him to forget, after having to look after him and find clothes that fit, figure out what they'd eat for their meals, etc. They were out in hiding, not exactly a place where you get to flaunt your money.

For some reason, the reminder made him feel small. He, Gerard, was dirt poor. How on Earth did he get someone like Frank to find him interesting? If anything, he must've been a nuisance to Frank. If not a nuisance, Frank must've thought he was something bad. He could somehow understand why Mr. and Mrs. Iero viewed him the way they did. If he were rich and his son did the same thing, he'd shun him too. He was poor, holding him down…yet Frank loved him a lot. And it was either he really loved him, or he was just a really confused child…

Gerard felt better thinking it was the first option.

Frank opened his mouth to explain as he saw Gerard ponder in silence. The last thing he needed was for Gerard to also be angry about the slip up he just made. Even if Gerard claimed he wasn't angry for last night, he could still be lying…and then what happened just now would just add on to things, which he badly didn't want.

"I just thought I'd give him that for all he's done…I was going to give him more, as a final 'thank you' before—''

"Frank, chill," Gerard chuckled, taking a sip. "I forgot you were rich," he simply explained, shrugging. But Frank could hear the tone in Gerard's voice, and he immediately felt like crap. "And…you know two hundred dollars is a lot to me," Gerard admitted, giving another shrug. He knew he shouldn't have felt so inferior, but he did. "It just boggles my mind on how you think of it as a small 'tip.' A 'thank you' tip, even! I don't know, I think when I first met you I expected you to be a bit stuck up. But I've never met someone so nice and—Frank, why are you…are you about to cry?"

"D-do you regret ever meeting me?" Frank choked, a tear making its way down his cheek. He was sure he already knew the answer, but he was very upset at himself and their situation. He was pms-ing, he knew that. But he couldn't help it. He should have never pushed Gerard to do what he didn't want to. He'd remember how awful he felt today the next time he tried to pressure Gerard. It was not worth it, not at all. It was eating away at him. He'd been more relaxed yesterday than he was now. He just wanted to go back to that feeling, wrapped in Gerard's arms without feeling guilty. And it was one thing to think something about yourself, but to admit it out loud was another story. And as he voiced some of his opinions out loud (or as Gerard easily read them off his face), he couldn't help but feel stupid. And he should have never mentioned the money. It made Gerard feel like crap, and when Gerard felt like crap he felt like crap.

"God, no!" Gerard exclaimed. "Frank, why would I ever…? Is it because of what I just said? Baby, I mean that in a loving way! I don't think you are any of those things. I love you for that—"

"I'm not annoying you right now?" Frank sniffled. Truth be told, he was annoying himself right now. "Or yesterday?" Frank continued, wiping a tear. He felt like he should at least try to explain himself to Gerard, hopefully making some sense of it to himself in the process. "I just…I guess I just feel so bad about what I did yesterday, Gee. I've never lost anyone special to me, and for me to keep insisting as if I had some fucking experience or something…"

"Frankie, you were right about yesterday," Gerard admitted, setting the coffee down. Now was time to enact his plan, set it in stone. "I cried, like you said, and I'm fine now."

"Are you really?" Frank asked, a bitter smile adorning his features. "Or are you just trying to keep me happy…again?"

"It's both," Gerard admitted, blushing. "I…I'm okay, but I'm trying to keep you happy at the same time."

"Why—?"

"You'll never understand, Frankie," Gerard said, shaking his head as he put down the cup. He concentrated on it while he tried to come up with an effective way to tell his boyfriend what he wanted to convey. "What would you do, babe? What would you do if…give me the name of something you love," Gerard insisted, stopping in the middle of his analogy. "What do you love?"

"You."

"I'm not a 'what' Frank," Gerard laughed, leaving the boy standing before him to blush. "Unless, I'm a tool…? Is that what you're aiming for?" he joked, winking and raising a suggestive brow. It was supposed to get a giggle from Frank; but he stopped, though, when he saw how guilty Frank looked.

"Give me a name, Frankie," Gerard continued, clearing his throat and going back on topic. "You're killing me here."

"Um…Skittles," Frank suggested, and Gerard nodded.

"Give me another one."

"Is that not good enough?" Frank asked. "Or do you hate Skittles, too? I'm so sorry for picking that—"

"No, no, no!" Gerard said, shaking his head. "I love Skittles, baby. I just need you to pick another one for my analogy to work. So tell me. Pick another thing, babe."

"Um…how about Twizzlers?" Frank asked, after a moment. Gerard pondered for a moment as to how he'd go along with the analogy before he continued.

"Okay…so you love Skittles and Twizzlers, huh?" Gerard asked. Frank nodded, and waited for Gerard to make the point he wanted to make. Gerard, though, refused to continue while Frank was standing off, miles away from him. At least, it felt like Frank was miles away. And he refused to have that.

"Come sit here," Gerard demanded. "You make me feel like you're my fucking slave or something, standing there waiting on my call…"

"I could be, if you wanted—"

"That's exactly what I don't want, Frankie," Gerard scolded him, pulling the younger man toward the bed. "Sit," he instructed. Obediently, Frank sat and waited, biting his lower lip to keep himself from smiling. Gerard had just contradicted himself by ordering him to 'sit,' but Frank wasn't going to point that out. No need to be picky…

"Okay…how about you have both Skittles and Twizzlers, hm? You have them both to…eat." Frank nodded, urging Gerard to continue. As soon as Gerard saw that Frank was paying close attention, (that, and of course getting his story together) he continued. "And…then one day, some fucker steals and eats your Skittles!" He couldn't help grinning as he saw Frank's shocked expression. It was cute. "You've loved those Skittles since the dawn of time," he continued, playing off of Frank's expression. "And you're extremely angry that all your Skittles are gone—"

"Gee, this is depressing."

"Of course it is," Gerard agreed, smirking as he stroked Frank's cheek. "Someone's stolen your Skittles. We've got to track that fucker down!" Frank bit back a smile. Gerard was trying so hard, wasn't he? And it was working; they both knew it.

"So we track him down and get them back," Frank answered carefully, the smile now on his face.

That smile of his was contagious.

"But that can't happen, Frankie." Gerard took a sip of his coffee, still happy with the improvement as Frank changed his position on the bed and became less timid. "The Skittles are gone, and no matter what you do to the fucker that took them, you'll never get them back. But you have Twizzlers with you. And so…what do you do?"

"Trade the Twizzlers with someone else for Skittles?" Frank asked, raising a brow. Gerard shook his head, laughing at Frank's answer. The point of this little analogy had gone right over his head.

"Well, you could," Gerard admitted, running his hands through Frank's hair, tousling it in the process. "But you're hungry. You're starving…"

"Then I'd eat lunch."

"…for candy," Gerard continued, tweaking his analogy after Frank's comment. "You have an immense candy craving, and you want your fucking candy now. And you only have Twizzlers. What do you do?"

"If I really wanted candy to eat, I'd probably be craving the Skittles, though," Frank reasoned aloud.

"But you can't get any," Gerard reminded him. "And you said you liked Twizzlers."

"I guess I'd eat those," Frank said, shrugging. "But I'd look for Skittles after…"

"But you'd still eat the Twizzlers," Gerard pointed out, trying to get it out of him. "And then after you eat the Twizzlers, you'll start getting addicted to that instead."

"I thought I could find Skittles after?" Frank questioned him.

"Um…the guy that took the Skittles stole all the Skittles in the world and then ate them all," Gerard said. "Yeah, that's it. No more," he elaborated as Frank stared at him in bewilderment.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Frank asked, eyes widened in disbelief. "No more Skittles?"

"But you told me you loved Twizzlers, too," Gerard reminded him. "So even if Skittles are gone, you still have those to eat, and you love them just as much."

Frank gave a sigh, biting his lower lip afterward. "Gerard, Twizzlers aren't good enough."

"But you said—"

"That was before I knew what you were doing," Frank said, folding his arms. "In all honesty, I'd act like a spoiled rich kid and throw a temper tantrum until I got my fucking Skittles. Or I'd pay my way to it." Frank shook his head as he closed his eyes, trying to rid his eyes from the tears that threatened to form. It was more of the idea of Gerard trying so hard to make him happy that touched him, and less of feeling guilty about last night…or maybe more in that category as well. "I know where you're going with this, hun."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about—"

"I'm your 'Twizzler' Gee," Frank said, smirking as he opened his eyes again. With a hint of disdain, he replied, "Twizzlers suck."

"You just told me you loved them!"

"I lied."

"Well, luckily for you, I love Twizzlers," Gerard stated, shrugging. "You're gonna have to deal with that."

"Twizzlers, by nature and in comparison to Skittles, are dull and boring."

"How so?"

"Skittles have different flavors," Frank pointed out. "Twizzlers are just…Twizzlers."

"Well, I don't know about you, but if we're using the same analogy here," Gerard explained, as a bittersweet feeling took over at the thought of his brother, "I haven't tasted Mikey…so flavor doesn't matter in this department." Gerard even winked to get his point across, and Frank feigned a disgusted face.

"Dude!"

"You brought it on yourself," Gerard said, shrugging. "You brought up flavor. I obviously don't care, but you seemed to need the encouragement. That won you over?" Gerard asked, and Frank nodded, shaking his head afterwards.

"You're sick," Frank joked, easing up against Gerard. Gerard pulled Frank close and engulfed him in a hug.

"And I'm yours," Gerard added. "This was part of the deal, babe. It's too late to return me."

"I wouldn't return you!" Frank exclaimed. "I love you, no matter the little odd fetishes you have."

"I would say that you had the fetish," Gerard said, correcting him. "You're the one trying to describe his taste to me."

"It was an analogy."

"Sure, sure."

"It was!"

"Well, I like Twizzlers, Frankie, so just deal with it," Gerard said, veering them back on topic.

"You shouldn't."

"Ah, but I do." Gerard kissed Frank's forehead, caressing his cheek as well. "I'm deeply in love with you, Frankie. And I don't care how illogical it may sound to you, but maybe when this hits you just as hard as it's hit me, you'll see." Gerard gently cradled Frank against him as he proceeded to rock him back and forth. "You'll see," he murmured once more, almost humming a tune as he rubbed Frank's arms.

What on earth was Gerard talking about? Frank wanted to know. Was he insinuating that he didn't believe Frank loved him back, or didn't love him as much? Of course he loved Gerard, possibly more than Gerard even loved him. But if Gerard didn't know, he'd just have to fucking prove it.

Frank remained in Gerard's grasp with nothing but his boxers in the cold November morning, with various thoughts consuming his mind. He couldn't have asked for a better place to do so. Even if he'd been feeling shitty and clammy before, due to their conversation and where he was currently—within Gerard's arms—everything was very perfect, and undoubtedly very warm despite the weather outside. And he felt less shitty than he had before, which he was thankful for. It was very selfish on his part, but he still felt good.

The two sat together, eventually lying with their backs on the bed. Not too long after, Gerard sat up so he could drink his coffee—his fucking awesome Starbucks coffee—and eat his bagel. Frank resorted to resting his head on Gerard's lap and lower stomach. While Frank's ear pressed against Gerard's stomach, he smiled at the funny little noises his boyfriend's stomach was creating. It was calming for him to do that; anything that had to do with Gerard was calming. Gerard had managed to make him feel better about himself. At the end of the day, that's how it always was.

"Hey, Frank?" Gerard asked, interrupting Frank from his little 'let's-listen-to-the-funny-noises-in-Gerard's-tummy' and little scheming plans. He rubbed Frank's head as Frank looked up, smiling. "I was thinking about the analogy," he continued, "and…we could always change things up."

"How?" Frank asked, raising his head.

"Well, going back on the topic of 'flavor' and such," Gerard joked, and Frank rolled his eyes, blushing.

"It was a mistake!" he pleaded one last time. Gerard shook his head as he bent down to kiss Frank's nose, holding his coffee carefully.

"It wouldn't have to be if we switched it around," he murmured, giving a shy smile. "Have it that some 'fucker stole your Twizzlers, leaving you just with the Skittles…which has flavor, if I do say so myself…Taste pretty good, too, those Skittles," Gerard continued, to which Frank instantly blushed scarlet. Seeing Frank's cute expression, Gerard continued with, "If flavor's a problem of yours, I'll just clear that up for you …"

Frank immediately understood the somewhat-of-a-compliment Gerard just gave him and Frank's blush deepened (Gerard didn't think it was possible) as images of his boyfriend's 'Birthday Present' flashed in his mind. Gerard exploded with laughter, burying his nose at the crook of Frank's neck as he set his coffee down. And once he set his coffee cup down, he dedicated the rest of his energies to poking and tickling his little angel, as well as kissing him everywhere; it just added on to the tickling, in Frank's opinion.

Even though he wasn't exactly thrilled, he was more than content by this point. How could he not be, feeling Gerard's soft lips against his neck and cheeks, his fingers prodding him from the sides, and his body comfortably crushing his own while he jumped on top and pinned him down?

Even though they were being completely unproductive, Frank preferred this to doing something 'useful' any day. It was the small stuff like that which Frank was going to miss if they ever got caught. With every moment, he was determined to make sure that they would not get caught. There were many shady people in the area of New Jersey that they were hiding out in. And he had a shitload of hardcore cash. He was sure he'd be able to convince the corrupted police force to look 'elsewhere' and forget whatever they had seen. He'd never been a fan of using money as a means to get what he wanted, no matter how much of a spoilt child he was acting now. But Gerard's case was something special, and deserved every cent. He was going to keep them on the run for as long as possible.

Because Gerard was making it very obvious that Frank would end up missing way too much of him for Frank to continue on his own. And there was no point in Frank fighting that fact, because he knew it all along. He'd miss the small things, indeed.


	48. Four More Days

**Four More Days**

"…and there's been sight, as you've all possibly heard, of the two around Elm's Park."

"Yes officer," Pete responded, nodding. He knew that already, it was all over the television. Then again, this was the Newark Police they were talking to. He should have expected as much. Had the kidnap not been given much media attention, the police would have only been able to tell them that they 'suspected that Frank was missing.'

No shit.

"But there've been reports that the two of them are in Washington, too," Pete politely pointed out, instead of giving them some smart ass reply. "Isn't there anything else you guys have found? You know who we're up against. Every second we lose is vital, man! What if the next tip you get is that Frank is dead?"

"That's the point I'm trying to make here," the burly man admitted. "We…we aren't completely sure…in fact, we've gotten a few tips like those—''

"What?" Pete asked, in disbelief. Was he saying he got tips that Frank was dead? Didn't he know, as much of an idiot he was, that the idea to admit that wasn't the smartest, especially in front of the family and Mr. Iero? But the dude couldn't be serious. Gerard would never…there was no way…In Pete's defense, there were also tips saying the two were in Florida, but he knew not to take those tips seriously.

"Look," Mr. Iero sighed, closing his eyes as he interrupted the officer. Pete had been doing a fine job on his own, but he was annoyed. He couldn't sit back and watch it unravel anymore. "My son is missing, and I own your ass. I suggest that if you like having food to eat and having a roof over your fucking head, you'll go find the bastards," he snapped.

This was longer than he had been supposed to be waiting. What was Frank doing out there? It was no longer about the fact that he was missing. In fact, it was more about the fact that Frank was defying him. He was willingly with Gerard. Mr. Iero knew that much for sure. And for Frank to defy him was an insult. He was fed up with it, and he wanted—no, he demanded his son stop shitting around and get his ass home. He owed it to his mother to do it. If it were up to Mr. Iero alone, he wouldn't have cared as much. But he could see Frank's absence was driving his wife crazy.

"We're trying, Mr. Iero," the man quickly replied. "We are. But with so many unreliable sources, they could be anywhere."

"Then you'd better get your ass 'everywhere' and find them," he snapped, becoming irate. "I want him home within a week. You hear me? I want that fucking-faggot of a son in my house by a week!"

Angrily, he slammed the door. The house echoed with a loud slam echoing throughout the halls, and Mrs. Iero treaded down the stairs as she tried to keep some of the pictures hanging on the wall from falling. By the look on Mr. Iero's face, she could tell the meeting with the police hadn't gone well. She felt bad for suggesting they try it out in the first place, pushing her husband to try and find Frank quickly, instead of letting the troubled teen find his way home. But she couldn't help being anxious. "Any word?" she quietly asked, and her husband shook his head.

"But I'm gonna get 'word' by the end of this week," he vented. "I want Frank's ass in this house by then, or else those people won't have food to eat, or a fucking roof over their heads!"

"Frank will come back," Pete assured him, and Mr. Iero brushed the assurance off.

"I know that much, obviously. But I want his ass here now. It's the third time the police have come by empty-handed—"

Mr. Iero stopped speaking once he saw and remembered his wife standing at the top of the stairs, hands crossed and expression unreadable. Frank's absence had taken its toll on her, even though she admitted that she had barely hung out with him. The fact that her son ran away from her and went to someone else was nerve-wracking. And the fact that her son was emotionless around her yet so animated around that pedophile was heartbreaking. As a parent, she couldn't have done worse.

What made the situation even more horrible was the fact that her son was now eighteen years of age, and if he didn't want to fucking come home, he didn't need to (granted the fact that whether he came home or not she would charge Gerard with kidnap, nonetheless). At least, that's what her husband had told her some nights ago, urging her to forget Frank and move on. There was no point in searching for Frank because he'd come home on his own.

And what was this she just saw? Her husband was looking for Frank too, no matter the front he put up. But why had he been doing it in secrecy? This, he just said, was the third visit. He had told her this was the first visit ever. Did he know more than she? How could he fucking…? Especially when he knew how much this was affecting her?

"How much do you know?" she demanded, angrily staring down at her husband.

"Nothing much," Mr. Iero sweetly replied. "Just…business."

"About our son 'business'?" she asked. "Or the business 'business'? Because the last time I checked, getting Frank home has nothing to do with the business 'business'."

"Um…it's abou—"

"How much do you fucking know?" she spat out harshly, glaring at him. She frankly didn't care for his response, because she already knew the answer to her prior question. When he didn't answer, she descended down the stairs in a menacing matter, her eyes fixated on the liar she called a husband. "Where. Is. My. Son?"

"He's my son, too."

"Answer the damn question."

"All I know is that they have clues that Frank is around the area," Mr. Iero admitted, shrugging. "But the same holds for Washington state, New York, and California."

"So where is he?"

"I don't know," he husband replied, waving toward the door he slammed not too long ago. "Do I look like some middle class bum dressed up in some ugly uniform?"

"I simple 'no' would have sufficed," she replied, rolling her eyes. "You are full of it. I've had it, Anthony. I've fucking had it! I listened to you to get that fucking sitter, and look where we are? Where are we, Tony? Take a fucking good look at where we are! Look at the progress we've made at this expense; we hire someone and then our son gets raped. So then we fire the guy, and what does our son do? He cries! For the first time in years, our son cries! Over the fucking pedophile, someone who's raped and molested him! What's worse, Gerard gets angry and wants revenge now. His brother tries to talk him out of it and gets killed, and he goes ahead and kidnaps our son, who thinks he 'loves' him and that they were 'meant to be.' Our son is going to end up in a ditch somewhere, and I swear I'll blame you for it!"

Hearing the story, Pete couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Mrs. Iero glared at him and Mr. Iero smirked, using Pete's chuckle to his advantage.

"Don't glare at him like that."

"This is our son I'm talking about, this douche thinks is funny," she seethed. "He's laughing. Why are you fucking laughing?"

"Because of how ridiculous the whole thing is," Mr. Iero said, shrugging as he inadvertently saved Pete's ass. "How can you blame me for things our son does? Might as well blame yourself too Irene..."

To make sure he was out of the argument, Pete slowly edged his way into Tina's reception room—now Sara's reception room. Although, the last time he spoke to her (yesterday) she seemed a little distant…

It was funny to hear Mrs. Iero's version of it all, especially when it was so off, and particularly because Mr. Iero himself was truly a pansy. Had he not had any money and played no role in Frank's birth, Pete wouldn't give a rat's ass about him.

To start off, Pete was the one who suggested a sitter. He'd been hoping, though, that the Ieros would pick him to watch over Frank, and 'formally' accept him. Instead, they saw him simply as a 'good' friend. And, Gerard probably hadn't raped Frank. Knowing Gerard, he highly doubted it. And knowing Frank, he doubted it as well. He knew Frank could be pretty violent if he wanted to be, and if anyone besides himself was touching Frank (a.k.a. rape), Frank would probably scare that person away. He'd never do a thing like that to Pete and risk letting someone else touch him because Pete owned him. It was a fact the both of them knew pretty well.

Plus, Mrs. Iero was wrong about the crying as well. Frank cried loads of times. Hell, there were months that Frank would cry everyday, while trying to get used to Pete's new and undying presence in his life. And every one of those nights completed Pete as a person. To feel and relish Frank the way he did…just the thought of it was making him salivate. Of course, the first times were nothing like the later times, when Frank actually had an idea of what was already going to happen and stopped fighting back. And boy, the days when he'd been thrown into the dirt, chewed up, and spat out by everyone at school and home were the best. His parents, whenever frustrated with Frank's mere existence, would urge Pete to take the little rascal to his home and have a 'sleepover.'

Sleepovers with Frank were the greatest…

And no, Mrs. Iero was wrong about the molestation because Pete was there when it happened. He was the fucking molester. Plus, the Missus was about two or three years too late. If he remembered correctly, Frank was fifteen when it all happened, not seventeen like she made herself believe…

Also, Gerard didn't kill his brother. Pete did. But that was just a minor detail when it came to Frank's well being, according to the Ieros. The only reason either of them were particular about Mikey's case was because there was supposedly something of Mikey's about Gerard that was stolen from the household. However, the police weren't completely sure what was stolen, but they knew there had been a robbery. Only the killer, a.k.a. Pete, knew what had been taken from the residence. And, thanks to the nice wallet in Pete's dresser, Pete knew all he needed to know about Mikey. He knew enough about the dude to 'call in sick' and to text Gerard a couple of times. He knew the dude's full name, he knew where he worked, he had his checkbook—police would never think Mikey owned such things. The man lived in a rat hole. With the checkbook, Pete was able to see how much he actually made, and where he sent the checks to and—

Wait a minute. If he could find where Mikey sent the checks to, what was to say the address of Frank and Gerard wasn't in there? Then again, Mikey wasn't required to pay for his brother and the fuck-toy, but it was still a possibility. Pete had thought about it earlier, but dismissed the option since every place in the check book might as well had been written in Greek. He'd known none of those places. So, he'd doubted it was there. He'd skimmed through it, and found nothing familiar. Then again, the checks Mikey had sent wouldn't have 'I'M WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR' stamped all over them. Now that there were 'sightings' of the two, he'd just match Mikey's withdrawal checks to those places. Hopefully, he'd find Frank, play 'hero' (after he found some way to explain how he 'magically' figured it all out), and get his fuck-toy back from Gerard (upgraded and all).

Smirking to himself, he ran out through the back door and into his car. His apartment wasn't too far off. And what was the harm in checking things out? If Mikey did pay for the two bastards, then he had hit the jackpot. And if not…well, too bad. But he was sure there must've been at least one check (or two) that went toward Gerard. The two 'lovers' were out on their own, living and hiding with no money. Sure Frank had money, but if he withdrew the huge amount he had, the banks surely would have called by now. And since they hadn't, that meant the two were surviving off of someone else's money. There was only so much Gerard could sustain the both of them with, using his fuck money. There must've been another source.

And hopefully, that source was Mikey.

* * *

Mrs. Iero shut the computer, content with her progress. She, within five hours, had a place booked amd ready. The next problem was contacting Gerard's parents and getting them to agree. Without a doubt, they would have to agree. She was the head of the Iero Cooperation. If they didn't agree, there'd be no fucking place to bury their son; she'd make sure of it, and she was sure things would go her way. No cooperation wanted their business to close due a lack of funding, no matter how noble the cause. Besides, she had already called the police and told them about the scheduled funeral. They'd be advertising it, in a sense, all over the news, just to show and prove to everyone that she was serious.

And to show that when she wanted something done, she'd find a way to get it done. Just like the way she wanted her son; he wasn't coming home willingly, so she'd find a way to make him come back home.

Frank was definitely coming home, sooner than her husband was trying to do. Her husband was so fickle at times. Had he forgotten the reason why he married her? The reason why the business was where it was? It was all her doing, all because of her efforts. And then she'd been so head over heels with Anthony that she had made him Boss. He'd gotten so wrapped up in it that he was able to convince her to join him up there and leave her infant son with other people. So she'd followed; that was no one's fault but her own. But look at where it landed all of them? Mr. Iero had green-fever with money practically. The latest sitter had molested her little boy, too. And it took all this for her to see how messed up she'd become ever since she'd married that damned man. All he seemed to care about was Pete.

Don't get her wrong. Pete was a good friend of Frank's. But that was just the thing; he was a good friend of Frank's. Pete was the one person Frank had become friends with, had actually invited over to the house. And the relationship, if she was looking in the right place, went sour once her husband got closer to Pete. She didn't know if that was the reason why her Frank started acting more reclusive toward them, but things definitely changed once Pete came into the picture.

Sighing, she picked up her cell phone and tried to initiate part of her plan into action. As she skimmed through her contact list on her cell phone, she came across Frank's cell number and dialed.

There would be no point of taking full responsibility for the funeral if her son wouldn't attend…like she knew he would.

* * *

"…and that's why I hate needles," Gerard finished, shrugging. "And there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it. But spiders are just—"

"Well, I hate spiders, and I can't fucking stand them," Frank replied back, brushing past Gerard's cute story of needle-phobia. He knew Gerard had done it just to get him to kill the spider, but he wasn't falling for it. "So kill it for me."

The day had gone by splendidly. But it all went downhill as soon as Gerard pointed out the spider across the wall from Frank. It was then when Frank froze, gripping on to Gerard as if his life depended on it. Frank had to learn how to over come his fears. True, he hated needles, but he had a pretty good reason. He'd just told Frank and Frank agreed. To be fair, though, the spider Gerard was asking Frank to kill was very very very small. If he had to get stung by a needle that small, he'd do it…maybe. But that was not even the main concern. His main concern was the fact that in a week or so, Frank would most probably be back at his house. And he'd have to deal with many of his fears. Why not start now?

"No," Gerard insisted, shaking his head.

"Yes."

"No."

Frank's position faltered. "Yes?"

"No."

"Please, Gee?" Frank begged, giving him puppy dog eyes. Gerard looked away, shaking his head.

"You kill it yourself, Frankie," he insisted. "What are you gonna do once I'm gone, huh?"

"I'll never sleep again."

"What does sleeping have to do with this?" Gerard asked in curiosity.

"I can't sleep!" Frank exclaimed. "How do you expect me to fucking sleep when I know there's a spider in the room?"

"You'd get up and kill it yourself," Gerard slowly instructed.

"Or hire someone to do that for me," Frank muttered under his breath, but Gerard gave him a chastising glare. Frank buckled from the pressure and begrudgingly snatched the tissue from Gerard's hands.

"Now take it and squish the spider," Gerard tried to instruct again. Frank neared the spider, tissue in hand and hovering above the spider. All he had to do was bring it down and squash it, but instead Frank shook his head and retreated. Gerard sighed, shaking his head at how close Frank had been to killing the spider, only to freeze up.

"I-I can't do it."

"Agh, Frank…"

From underneath a bundle of clothes, a faint ringing dully sounded and interrupted the two from their task…not that Frank minded anyway. For Frank, it was a sign from above. He left Gerard and the spider, willing Gerard to finish off the job as he attended his phone. Frank scrambled for his cell phone, although he knew it wouldn't be anyone he wanted to talk to. It was probably some telemarketer or something. But anything was better than dealing with that damned spider. Even if the call was from some stupid telemarketer, he'd entertain them.

As he reached his phone, he picked it up and turned to see Gerard standing in the same position as before. The spider hadn't been killed, and Frank knew it.

"Gee, kill it," he pleaded on the opposite side of the room.

"Drop the phone and come here and do it yourself," Gerard demanded, trying to stay stern. Frank had to get past his fears and do this. And he knew Frank was trying to avoid it. It wasn't going to work…unless the call was important.

"I have to take this call," Frank lied, hoping for Gerard to kill the spider on his own.

"It's moving closer toward the suitcase," Gerard sang, and Frank gave a shriek.

"Kill it, kill it!" Frank demanded and pleaded. He took one quick look at the caller I.D. to see who had called him. "My mom's calling, Gee."

It took Frank a second or so for it to fully register with him that his mother was calling him, and that he really didn't feel like talking to her. But he'd make an exception today, especially when there was a spider mixed into the equation. Who was on the other end of the line didn't matter. As long as they gave him a good excuse to not go anywhere near the spider like his evil boyfriend wanted him to. He'd do anything by this point. If Pete had been on the other end, he probably would have still answered, just to get Gerard to kill it. He took another glance at the caller I.D. referring to his mother. "Gee, kill it for me!"

"Your mom?" Gerard asked, a bit interested now. He stepped up to Frank. "You gonna answer? Find out what's going on?"

"I-I don't know," Frank murmured, his eyes glued on the spider slowly making its way down the wall. As the spider got closer to his belongings, Frank froze and replied with another frantic, "I don't know, Gee! I don't know! Kill it!"

"And 'I don't know' if I want to kill Mr. Spider, who's making his new home in your suitcase—"

"I'll talk to her, just fucking kill it!" Frank pleaded. Gerard motioned for him to open the phone and Frank flipped it open, holding it to his ear. Gerard reached to kill the spider as Frank held the speaker to his ear. There had been no sound on the other end, even after Gerard killed off the spider, which took an eternity in Frank's eyes. Just as he was about to hang up, he heard his mother speak.

"F-Frank?" she asked, before continuing with, "Or is this the voicemail…again?"

"No, it's…it's me, ma," Frank finally spoke, eyes on the spider. He heard his mother gives a sob and he cleared his throat as he began to play with the hem of his shirt, his nerves getting the best of him. The last time he'd heard his mother's voice had been months ago. Well, to be fair, he'd heard her message on his voicemail a few days ago…but it was nothing compared to knowing that at that exact moment she was speaking to him. He never thought he'd miss hearing her annoying voice, but he did…a little.

Plus, Gerard had killed the spider by now; in fact, he was currently throwing the tissue that held the spider's squashed remains into the garbage. Frank could hang up now if he wanted to, but as he heard his mother's aching voice he stayed on a bit longer. He hadn't left completely because of her; it'd mostly been because of Pete. His parent's strict ruling (or lack of) he could deal with. But he had to get away from Pete. The least he could do was talk to her a bit, and show her he didn't hate her completely.

"Oh my god, Frank!" she exclaimed, letting out a shaky breath. "I've been worried sick about you!"

"It's only 3 or 4 months," Frank said, giving a light shrug. "We've…lasted longer before."

"But that was while I was on a business trip—"

"It must've been a pretty long ass trip if it lasted seven months, ma."

"Yeah, but then you were left alone with someone we trusted."

"And who would that be?" Frank asked. "Pete?"

"Exactly," she replied, her high voice screeching through the receiver. "But now you're off with some pervert and molester…"

"He's not." Frank shook his head and he immediately remembered what it was about his mother that he detested so much. Once her mind was set on something, it was hard to change her mind. And unfortunately for Gerard and he, she thought Gerard was a massive pervert and murderer. Her heart was in the right place, but she was directing her anger at the wrong person. And he'd be damned if he let her belittle Gerard like that. "Look, ma. It's nice talking to you. But if you're going to do that the whole time, I'm going to cut it short. I mean it."

"Look at how he's changed you," she murmured, but Frank ignored her little snide comment. He did release a scoff, to which she caught her mistake and heeded his warning. Instead, she changed the topic, somewhat. "Where are you? Are you all right?"

"I'm with Gerard and I couldn't be better, ma."

"What state are you in, what building?" Mrs. Iero reiterated to her son.

"What's to say I'm still in the United States?" Frank asked, and his mother gave a chuckle.

"Your phone wouldn't have worked, because you'd need to buy the little phone card things—"

"Which I've done, ma," Frank said, blatantly lying. "Sorry to kill your dreams, but remember that minor account? I don't need you anymore. And I'm eighteen years. I can do whatever the fuck I want."

"Watch your language," she warned him, and Frank chuckled.

"I'm eighteen, ma. What part of 'eighteen' don't you understand?"

"Well, what part of 'ma' don't you understand?" she feebly tried to snap back. "I'm your mother, and I...I refuse to be spoken to like that. The same way you want me to speak about that asshole politely, you do to me, because I'm your mother."

"Yes, ma," Frank replied, rolling his eyes. "I hear you, okay?" It was obvious that was the best his mother had, so he went with it. "But I'm kinda busy, so…hurry it up."

Behind him, Gerard tip-toed to the spot, pressing his ear against the opposite side of Frank's phone. "What's wrong?" he mouthed at Frank, after hearing Mrs. Iero blab on the other end. Frank removed the phone from his face as well, shrugging as his boyfriend settled on the bed next to him.

"She wants to talk to me, even though she knows I won't say anything…"

"Frank? Are you still there?" Gerard heard the phone shriek. He nudged Frank and told him to answer his mother. Frank shook his head, about to close the phone and shut the conversation short. What if they were tracking their location, using the cell phone and airwaves? It was stupid for him to open the dumb cell in the first place. What had driven him to…?

"Frankie, answer your mother before I bring out the fucking tissue that has the spider all over it," Gerard teased, and Frank immediately put it back to his ear.

That had been why. He remembered now.

"…and I wanted to invite you, but seeing as you have no idea where you are…"

"Wait. What?" Frank asked, slightly interested. "I didn't hear you…are you breaking up?" Frank could see Gerard pretending to go back for the tissue, so he immediately shrieked. "Gee, put that down! Put it away! I wasn't faking it, she has bad service. Gee…Gee, get away!"

"'Gee'?" Frank's mother asked from the other end in confusion. "Who's that? Has Gerard kidnapped you along with someone else?"

"No, it's just me and Gerard here…"

"The…the two of you?"

"Yup," Frank replied, hoping that his mother remembered the warning he sent her.

"And 'Gee' is…?"

"Gerard."

"So, you and Gerard? You and 'Gee'?"

"Uh-huh."

"Same room?"

"On the same bed," Frank verified. He could hear his mother hyperventilating on the other end. "In fact," he lied, "you're lucky you didn't call a few minutes ago, or else I would've been…kinda busy."

It was a bit of a stretch, but he and Gerard had been heavily making out. Thanks to that whole Skittles thing, Gerard had an immense 'Skittle' craving. Frank hadn't gotten it at first and got up to look for money to buy that candy, but Gerard yanked him back down on the bed, asking why he was leaving. When Frank explained he was going to buy Skittles, Gerard gave a really sexy chuckle and kissed him, murmuring, "You're my Skittles, you dumb ass."

Hence, the huge make out session.

"Remember, ma," he warned her after hearing her let out a screech, Frank's mind returning to the present. "One peep, and this conversation is over."

"Let me…talk to him," she finally said, and Frank could tell she was using every ounce of her energy to refrain from insulting either him or Gerard. He had to hand it to her for that.

"No, ma."

"No?" she incredulously asked. Since when did Frank say 'no' to anything?

"No," he repeated again.

"Since when…?"

"Since now," Frank said. "I know you aren't going to treat him well, and you did call my phone…I think I get to dictate who gets to use it."

"The time you should have been saying 'no' was four months ago," she shot at him, "against Gerard." Frank shrugged.

"For what?" Frank asked. "He didn't do anything, and he hasn't. At least…not what you're thinking."

"Has he fucked you, Frank?" she asked bluntly.

"Yes," Frank admitted, just as nonchalantly as his mother had been when she asked him the question. "And I wanted it."

"It doesn't matter if you want it," she explained for what se felt was the hundredth time. "If you're underage, it's still rape."

"I'm eighteen, ma," Frank argued. "If we have sex now, it doesn't matter."

"He did when he was watching over you—"

"According to Pete, ma," Frank corrected her. "And according to me, the one who's ass actually knows because it is my ass we're talking about, Gerard hasn't done anything."

"So, is that how it's gonna be?" she asked, a bit disappointed. Frank could tell his mother had expected him to break easily. She hadn't been around him for a while, hadn't she?

"His word against mine, ma." Frank sat up, riled up and defensive. "And since it's my ass we're talking about, I have a feeling you can't nail Gerard. I don't want him locked away for a crime he hasn't commited. And I want to be with him because he makes me fuckin' happy. Then again…what I've wanted has never mattered to you anyway," Frank added after a second thought. "So that doesn't matter, too."

Gerard held in his breath after that last snide comment Frank made to his mother. He'd never experienced Frank get so angry, angsty, and defensive before. The only time Frank was actually angry and dominant over a situation was when Gerard first semi-declined the offer to be his boyfriend. He remembered asking Frank if Frank was sure he was asking the right person to be his boyfriend, and Frank had replied with the same tone he was speaking to his mother in. Even if they tone had lasted for only a minute, he'd remembered it.

"…I'm asking Gerard-fucking-Way to be my boyfriend…"

"Frank, put Gerard on the phone…? Please?"

"No, ma," Frank said, holding his ground. "You're not talking to him."

"Frank—"

"No." Frank's eyes were as cold as Gerard had ever seen them become, and he had to admit that an angry, purely angry Frank, was intimidating. Especially with his new look…

"Fine…" Gerard could hear the defeat in Mrs. Iero's voice and he felt kind of bad for the woman. "Just…I called you to invite you and…Gerard…to the funeral."

"Funeral? What funeral?" Frank asked, skeptical.

"Mickey's funeral," she explained glumly.

"Why? What do you have to do with it?"

"I never said I had anything to do with it," Mrs. Iero said, lying through her teeth. "We were just…invited. And I thought you'd want to come and help us pay Mick's final respects…unless you're like Gerard and also don't give a fuck…"

"I…I-I don't know," Frank admitted, his eyebrows furrowing together. "And…I need to tell you that the name is 'Mikey,' ma. Mikey."

"Whatever."

"No, you whatever," he childishly replied, his boyfriend nearing him on the bed. "If you're going to the funeral, the least you could do is know his name."

"Oh, I'm going," she assured her son, working her plan now. "The question is, though, are you?"

"When…when is i—?"

"It's in a week from now," she lied, interrupting him.

"I want a date, ma."

"Friday," she replied, smirking. Frank could hear it in her voice. She had won, and she knew it.

"Friday is in four days, ma," Frank replied smartly. "A week is seven."

"Are you coming, or not?" she asked, dismissing the fact.

Gerard heard the last line from Mrs. Iero, he had to have a moment to himself and for his thoughts. Mikey's funeral was in four days. That meant he had four days until it was his final chance to properly say goodbye, apologize for the shit he'd grown up to be, instead of the big brother Mikey needed. Most importantly, it would mean that he would have four days before essentially turning himself in.

Only four days left with Frank.

Although Gerard pulled back from the phone to keep Frank from reading his thoughts, Frank was thinking the same thing. As much as he wanted to damn his mother to hell for trapping them here, he had to thank her as well. She would be able to give his boyfriend what he'd secretly wanted all along, and deserved. He had no choice but to agree. And he both hated and loved his mother for it.

"Where…where is it?" Frank finally asked, completely torn.

Gerard didn't know what to do; this was the perfect opportunity for him to see Mikey one final time before he was lowered into the ground. It was the perfect opportunity for them to get rid of the stupidity of the situation and the stupid manhunt. He wasn't going to lie; he was tired.

But at the same time, he didn't want to give himself in just yet. Four days. Four fucking days. It was depressing. Hell, this whole situation was depressing. And he knew Frank was weighing out all the options as well.

"Bergen County, honey," Mrs. Iero replied, a smug smile on her face. Frank wanted to rip it off, but that wasn't a realistic possibility at all. So all he could manage was a small sniffle as he wiped his eyes.

"Don't call me that," he snapped at his mother, pulling his hair. Gerard came and cuddled against Frank, removing his hand from his hair. They both knew the significance of the once in a lifetime chance, but they both also were scared of the consequences. Frank gave a small groan, cursing himself for what he was agreeing to do. He gave a violent tug at the fringe and Gerard repeatedly murmured for Frank to 'shush' and not tug at his hair, holding Frank's clenched hands. Gerard kissed his boyfriend's knuckles as his hands remained clenched.

It was a done deal, but that didn't mean Frank had to pretend to love it.

"Well…are you coming?" Frank could hear his mother's annoying voice reach through the phone's speakers as he thought up his answer...their answer. Now was not the time to be selfish...not when it came to Gerard and his brother, no matter how selfish he'd wanted to be.

"Just because I know where it is, doesn't mean I'm going," he snapped once more, and Mrs. Iero knew she had broken through. But, just to make sure…

"Or will Gerard come?" she asked, and Gerard's ears perked up at the mention of his name. "Because he did kill his brother. He probably doesn't give a fuck, Frank. He'll kill you next, you know."

"Ma," Frank warned, but she ignored him.

"I should have expected as much from him," she said. "He doesn't give a fuck about his little brother. If he is innocent, why not go? But now, he'd rather spend his time fucking an under-aged child than pay his final respects to his little brother…"

"Ma!" Frank angrily yelled. "I'm eighteen! For fuck's sake!"

"…it's his last chance before we shove Mick's stupid body into the fucking ground, and all he can think about is—"

Frank shut his phone and threw it at the wall. He couldn't believe his mother just said that! How rude, how just plain mean was that? What's worse, he'd been in Gerard's grasp the whole time and she'd been screaming those things at him. Without a doubt, Gerard had heard it all. And Frank already knew the answer to the question his mother had been soliciting him with.

"We're going, aren't we?" he glumly asked Gerard, to which Gerard wearily and silently rubbed Frank's shoulder in an attempt to assuage him. Except nothing he could do would better Frank's mood. He knew it damn well. But there was no way he could pass the opportunity up. This was Mikey he was talking about. It was the least he could do. And he'd finally be able to say his 'goodbye.' Only, he'd be saying 'goodbye' to Frank, too. Mikey's death alone was a lot on his plate, and now he had to add Frank's absence to the list as well.

He wasn't sure if he was ready for that.


	49. Poison

**Poison**

"Yeah…I'm pretty sure it's him," the lady replied, biting her lower lip. She could hear the officer on the other end give a long and annoyed sigh. She didn't blame him; the lines were probably ringing off the hook regarding this case. The boy's face was on television every ten minutes.

"I mean, I saw him a few days ago, so I can't be sure…" The woman remained on the line while she took the heat for not calling in sooner about possibly seeing the 'Frank Iero.' That was not the smartest line to utter, but she had anyway. She had to be truthful, just in case she had been waaaay off and hadn't really seen Frank Iero. Then she could say, 'See? I told you.' Yet again, what if she was right?

How was she supposed to keep in so much information and detail on him when she'd found out about the missing teen after the look-a-like left and took out money from the bank? She had suspected it had been him (or someone in the family) so she hadn't wanted to call in. She did not want to ruin someone's life unless it was necessary. What made her call now was the fact that the case was still on, and that the police had been getting tips in from everywhere and anywhere possible. Plus, there had been a few tips in the area. This one more tip couldn't hurt the case any more badly than it had already been hurt.

"Yeah, he took out a huge sum of money…more than that…No. All," she replied as the officer on the other end moved on to what Frank would have possibly done there. She played with the end of her hair as she looked through the boy's request that day. The only name that came up had been 'Iero.' She was sure of it. She knew she had seen that name, or else why else would she have thought the man had ties to the family?

"The code for them?" she asked, double-checking that she was under the right name. She stared at the name on the television and carefully re-typed it into the database, although she knew the name by heart. As she squinted her eyes in an attempt to read the code on the screen under the Iero name, she told the officer, "AIFIII092. That's what I have here…"

How crazy would it be if that was actually the Frank Iero? It would be both good and bad. Good, in the sense that she'd just helped the case advance forward. But it'd be bad in the sense that she had waited so long. What if he was dead now? Hadn't she threatened to call his parents for withdrawing all his money? Why hadn't she?

"So it shouldn't matter, then, if I alert your parents?"

"Look, I turn 18 tomorrow. Think of it as my own birthday present to myself, even if it is only a couple hours away. Don't ruin that for me. Please."

"But I don't see why anyone would take out that much money. Even if you feel like binging…it'd be safer to keep some of it inside."

"With all due respect, I need the money to pay someone off…and how I spend my money is my business, anyway. So if you would please…?"

Looking back on it now, things seemed so obvious. But at the time everything seemed to make perfect sense. Here was a relative of the Ieros deciding to binge out on his money to pay a friend back. If she had picked out his words carefully back then, as well as his tone, she would have noticed the fact that he seemed very out of whack, nervous, scared, depressed even. And he said he would turn eighteen tomorrow, which was Halloween.

Damn. It very well could have been Frank Iero that walked through those doors less than five feet away from her a few weeks ago. And she had waited this long to call…?

There was ruffling on the other end as she waited patiently for the officer to ask her more questions concerning what the hell possessed her to wait so long when she heard him give a slight chuckle. "What?" she cautiously asked. "Was I wrong? Is that it?"

She waited a while before she heard an officer on the other end confirm her wildest dreams.

"No. Not at all, which is a nice change," he replied, releasing a satisfied sigh. "Now…where is this bank located again, miss?"

* * *

"So that's done with," Mrs. Iero muttered to herself, shutting her phone. True, Frank hanging up on her was extremely rude. But that was the most she expected from him. The kid was miles away, and probably felt like he owned the world. Well, he'd come off of his high horse as soon as he came home. No Gerard would be here for him. That was for sure.

Less than a minute later, her cell phone was ringing again. Immediately, she picked up. Without a doubt, all calls she was receiving had something to do with Frank. And any more information she could get was good for her. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Iero?" the head of the police department in Newark replied. "It's me, Chief Burton?"

"Ah, yes Mr. Burton," Mrs. Iero replied, confirming the fact that she remembered him. "You have news for me, I hope."

"Actually, I do," he replied, chuckling. "We got it; we got that tip."

"And what's that tip?" she asked, playing with her nails as she crossed her legs. "You've realized that he's missing?" Burton didn't reply. He had deserved that. His department hadn't been able to do much, but that comment was deserved. "What could you possibly have for me, Burton?" Mrs. Iero asked, rolling her eyes.

There was nothing they could tell her that she didn't already know. Plus, she had her own plan brewing up. True, the police team had known about the funeral, but that was all they knew. As far as they were concerned, there was a funeral, but no possibility of Frank and Gerard's attendance. Apparently, Mikey's funeral was something just for the Way family that the Ieros were sponsoring. In that sense, there was no way Frank and Gerard could come or even attempt to, because that would mean handing themselves in. And the funeral was private. But these two weren't like other criminals, and she was almost positive that those two would precisely turn themselves in, thinking that justice would play its part.

Haha.

"Well, Mrs. Iero," Burton started, "we got another tip today—"

"My son is not in Texas, or in another country like Italy, okay?" she interrupted him, rolling her eyes. "Anything else?"

"He recently withdrew money from a bank. The NVE bank?" Mr. Burton tried, hoping to spark interest. Mrs. Iero remained silent on the other end, obviously interested now.

"Where?" she finally asked, her heart beating.

"In Cedar Grove."

Cedar Grove. Cedar-fucking-Grove. Was Frank truly that close? "Cedar?"

"Grove," he verified. "You guys had a minor account, true?"

"Yes…"

"Well, he was able to withdraw some money."

"How much?" she demanded, gripping the phone now. She needed to have an idea of how much money the two had. Because Frank was now eighteen, which meant he legally now owned part of the company.

It had been a part of the birthday present surprise they had in store. True, they had another account (or accounts) set up for him for when he turned eighteen. But what Frank didn't know was that they had linked some (or all) of the accounts to the family company. The act was irreversible. It had been planned ever since the day she and Anthony had learned they were to bring a baby boy into the world. Nothing was wrong with permanently giving Frank custody of the company.

But what was wrong was if Frank used and squandered the money away on that fucking pedophile he was hiding out in Cedar Grove with. Never in a thousand years had Mrs. Iero thought her hard earned money would be used to shelter someone as sleazy and unworthy as Gerard. Yet, here she was. Better yet, there Frank was.

"He emptied the account," he answered her, and her heartbeat rose.

"Empty? As in all $100,000?" she asked, unbelievingly. She didn't want to believe it. There was no way Frank could carelessly—

"All."

"Shit," she cursed to herself as she heard the door to the room close behind her. "Shit."

"Honey?" she heard behind her. "Who are you talking to?"

"I can't fucking believe it," she continued, yanking her hair from the roots. It hurt like hell, but it was a bad habit of hers that she had. "Why the fuck would he…?"

"The clerk woman said that Frank took out the money to pay back a friend he owed money to," he explained slowly. "So I'm beginning to think that maybe, there's more to this case than we think."

"In other words, there's ransom involved?" she asked, and Burton gave an 'uh-huh.'

"He's manipulating your son to get the money he wants," he explained, just to make sure they both understood what was going on. Mrs. Iero gave a sad nod, twisting her hair around her finger now. She was more remorseful than she was angry by this point. She couldn't be too mad at Frank now. Gerard was playing with his emotions. And now that this fact had been brought out, it wasn't too hard to believe, either. Frank had always been rather clingy…

"Get on that," she finally instructed, turning around to see her husband and Pete behind her. She wasn't going to discuss this with the both of them here. She wanted to be responsible for Frank's return, and she wanted to have Frank come back without the 'help' or assistance of either of those two. "Check up on any other banks that have our name and that code that she gave you…"

"Right."

"…and I also want you to focus your attention on Cedar Grove and surrounding boroughs," she instructed him. "Match and search the ones that especially have tips coming from them. We'll definitely find them then."

True, had she just gone ahead with her original plan, she would most likely meet them at the funeral home. But why not just get them here (if she could) for sure, instead of having it be a possibility?

It wasn't long until the two adults hung up, leaving Mrs. Iero more determined than ever to find her son. She remained in her seat, staring off into the distance at what she was about to do in order to get her son back. As the saying goes, if you want something done, do it yourself. This was a prime example.

She had relied on the police department to bring her son home within a certain time period. That failed. And for her, it took her nothing but a few minutes (or, to be fair, a couple of hours) to get to where the police should have been.

To Mrs. Iero, Frank was no longer the accomplice to the bad guy, but he was now completely innocent, taken advantage of by Gerard once again. So what if he had willingly gone to Gerard? He'd been listening to his heart, which Gerard was currently controlling. There was no way any sense was going to get into Frank's head while he was in that state. The same thing happened to her and Anthony. Look where they were now.

"…she's just feeling a bit out there," she heard her husband whisper. Undoubtedly, without facing the two of them, she knew her husband was speaking to Pete. She had honestly forgotten they were in the room by this point, and jumped a bit when she heard her husband.

"Is it her time of the month?" Pete whispered in response, and she scoffed. Stupid douche.

"I hear you two," she said, projecting her voice. When there was no sound of any movement, she continued. "You two might as well show up and tell me anything you need to tell me before I go out and pick Frank up."

"You're picking Frank up?" Pete asked, unbelievingly. Did he hear her right? "You know where he is?"

"Do I look like a mind reader?" she snapped at the both of them, pretending the whole thing with Chief Burton didn't just happen. After all, her husband and Pete were the same in one. If she yelled at one, she was ultimately yelling at the other as well. That was the position her husband earned now. Plus, the new bit of information she had just learned was something that she and Burton would work on alone.

"Then how are you going to…?"

"He's coming on his own." She rose, carrying her laptop in her hand.

"How?" Pete asked, a bit confused. Hadn't she been talking about doing something else on the line a second ago?

"Luring him," she simply replied, leaving the room.

"And how'd you manage to lure him?" Mr. Iero unbelievingly asked. "Promise him some more sex or something?"

"I promised him Mikey," she said. Her husband's comments bothered her. Frank could not be blamed for where his heart was…or for whom his heart was with.

"You want our son to sleep with Mick?"

"It's Mikey, Tony," she said, correcting him. "And no, our son isn't a necrophiliac."

"You'd love him and support him anyway, if that was the case," he muttered sarcastically, referring to the homosexuality case.

"No, I wouldn't!" she snapped. "He has a problem, if that's the case."

"That's how I feel with him being a faggot," Mr. Iero replied, and Pete cleared his throat before continuing to watch the two continuing their argument.

"Look, Anthony; you know me by now—"

"I thought I did," he agreed, "but for some reason you've decided to support his homosexuality."

"Because look where it got us!" she replied, annoyed. "We obviously failed when it came to raising our son. We have to accept our mistake, you know…if we ever want to get him back."

"Why do you want him back?" he asked unbelievingly.

"Even if we failed our son, he's our son." Mrs. Iero descended the stairs and headed into the closet where she had suitcases already pre-packed. Things like this were a norm around the household, since she frequently left on business affairs. Now that she thought about it, Frank probably took after her and her husband's ways. No wonder he was able to leave on such a short notice. The thought that Frank actually paid attention to something she did made her smile.

She hadn't failed completely.

"So…you're just gonna go and pick him up?"

"Exactly."

"Are you…did you already call the police?"

"Use your head, honey," she said, holding his cheek. "Of course I called and told the fucking police. Who do you think I am? Who do you think I was just speaking to?"

"What's that thing about Cedar Grove?" he asked, and his wife shook her head.

"Nothing," she replied, shrugging it off. He didn't feel like she had to know about the secret meetings he had with police, then she didn't think he deserved to know what was going on here.

"I—"

"What I don't understand is the fact that you'd go ahead and let something like this happen; call and tell the police everything without telling me. What the fuck was up with that?" she asked gently, still holding his cheek. "You think I can't do anything anymore? Well I have news for you, babe," she replied, her voice becoming hard. "You suck ass when it comes to being a father and a husband. I want my kid, and I'm not gonna wait for the Newark police to find a clue." She yanked out the suitcase as Pete slipped by, eyeing Mrs. Iero's new wave of determination.

"I'm gone."

"Take Pete with you," Mr. Iero directed, earning an enraged growl from his wife and a surprised 'huh?' from Pete.

"What are you fucking telling me to do…?" She angrily glared at Pete. "He's the reason why Frank's gone!"

"No matter what you think, he and Frank are best friends."

"Were." Irene folded her arms.

"Yeah, okay. Let's assume that they 'were,' as you put it," Mr. Iero agreed, as Pete remained in the back. "There will always be something there. Take Pete. I'm sure it'll help more than you think."

"Are you fucking serious?" she asked unbelievingly. Pete looked at her nervously, and she felt an overwhelming sense of control. Fine. She'd take the fuck-tard. The drive to Bergen County was kinda far. She'd just leave Pete's ass at a convenient store, drive off while they had a bathroom break. If that didn't work, she'd ask him to buy something for her and then drive off. Even that punishment wasn't cruel enough in her eyes, but it got him away from her.

"Fine," she eventually stated. "But it's not my problem if he isn't packed and ready in an hour, because that's when I'm leaving."

"How are you even gonna pull this off?" her husband asked her. "What about the guy's parents?"

"Gerard's parents are kinda strict," Pete said, breaking his silence.

"Well then, they failed too, because they got a rapist and a homosexual outta him. What a great job!" she exclaimed sarcastically.

"See? You need Pete for this!" Mr. Iero said. "He knows the parents—''

"I don't need him for that. I'll cajole them on my own. I've been doing it for years now," she said, dismissing the idea. Luckily, for Pete, she wasn't going to use him. Had they known the true story, they would have known that the Ways hated Pete as much as they hated Gerard.

"But Pete can still come," she finally said, thinking up of places where she could randomly leave him at. Maybe she'd stop by a really bad city and leave Pete next to a group of thugs or something. Of course, that'd never work because those thugs would probably harm her and her car, too.

Well, in all fairness it would be Frank's car. She thought that if she picked Frank up in the car and told him that it was his, he'd be even happier to come home. It worked when he was a child.

"I'm sorry Mommy's been away for so long, Fwanky," she'd say to her five year old boy. "Here's some money. Oh, and what's this?" she'd ask, pulling out another toy car for him to add to his collection. "A toy car!"

"Thank you ma," he would reply, taking the car. Always, he'd take the car, leaving the money behind. Irene would always have to stuff the money in his pocket, or else he'd forget about it. But those small things all added up; she would have to chase him down to make sure he took it, but she had work to do as well. Time was money. "Do you wanna play—"

No, she didn't want to play. She wanted to get back to work. And Frank knew this. Why he asked every time, she didn't know. She warned him every time, too. "Frank," she'd say, her voice low and condescending. "What have I told you about that?"

" 'Time is money,' " he would recite quietly, gripping the car. He didn't cry, but simply shrugged. "Okay…sorry."

"Maybe you can play with—"

"It's okay, ma," he would say, shrugging again. "I…I'm fine."

"Okay, sweetie. Mommy has to work to do, okay?" she'd question, rubbing his shoulder. Little Frank would shrug her off before walking away into his room, slamming his door behind him.

Even though Frank had seemed disappointed and heartbroken, Mrs. Iero knew deep inside that he was happy and loved the cars he'd gotten. And when she occasionally passed by his room and heard him cry, she knew Frank was crying from the overwhelming joy of getting another car to add to his growing collection of—then—fifty cars. She'd take pride in something like that, too. Which was why she was sure that giving Frank this car would ultimately win him over. If there was one thing she knew about Frank, it was that he loved getting toys, presents, and money.

If not, one would have to say that she didn't know her son at all. And how crazy would that be?

* * *

"He has some weird obsession with Frank," Tina tried explaining to Sara as she listened intently. Sara's phone vibrated, but she ignored it. She'd call back whoever was calling her now, later. "Frank is a 'fetish' of his, if you will."

Sara arched a brow, still confused at Tina's attempt to explain the man. "He seemed pretty straight to me, although I knew he was bi…"

"He's not 'bi' really," Tina said. "He just likes certain…things…a certain someone."

"So…he likes Frank?"

"Not really," Tina said, trying to find a better way to phrase herself. "Frank is a nice…sex toy, maybe? Instrument?"

"Why's Frank a nice 'instrument'?" Sara asked, ignoring the vibrating object in her pocket. She had to admit when Tina offered that they meet face-to-face, she thought there was a trick involved—especially since Pete offered her that job a couple days ago. But Tina was generally a nice person. She was a bit confused as to why Pete kicked her out and replaced Tina's place as her own. Not that she was complaining…she now had a job and a roof over her head. She decided not to push things, because she now was pretty sure Tina had no idea of the job offer she was given yesterday. "How's that possible? Are you sure the guy's not just bi?" she asked again.

"He has me," Tina simply stated, thinking it was obvious.

"But if Frank is all he really wants, then maybe he's just gay?"

"He's straight, and he's into me," Tina said, sighing. It was obvious to Sara that Tina was in self-denial. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"I don't think so…"

"You don't think, period," Tina snapped.

"Well, neither does he if he thinks he can just go off, killing people because he secretly adores Frank!" Sara shouted an annoyance, and Tina's eyes widened as the door behind Sara creaked open, to reveal Pete.

She immediately gasped, her heartbeat racing as Pete gave a low chuckle. The sound startled Sara as well, and she whirled around to come face-to-face with the guy responsible, according to Tina, for the manhunt in New Jersey. Her cell phone that had been ringing immediately stopped, and Pete shut his phone.

"Sara," he calmly started, eyes on Tina. "I've been calling you."

The door shut and Sara gasped at the swift motion of the door, as well as Pete's swift movements. In a matter of seconds, he held her against the wall and restrained her. She gave a shriek and Pete urged her to hush, pulling out a blade from his pocket. Sara froze, and Tina stopped in her tracks. Sure, she could keep moving and find the hidden gun she knew Pete had in here somewhere. But if she did, Pete'd kill Sara. The fucker was angry, she knew that much. She was probably in for a lot of trouble, too, for blabbing everything to Sara. But she'd done it for a good purpose, in the name of their relationship. Surely, Pete would understand.

"Move, and I'll slit her fucking throat," Pete warned Tina, tightening his hold on the knife. Sara gulped, causing a small cut to form on her neck. She gave a cry and Pete chuckled at her squeamish behavior.

"Sara, honey," he crooned, smiling. "Why didn't you pick up? Huh?"

"I…I was talking t-t-to Tina," she stammered, giving another gulp.

"Oh?" Pete asked, arching a brow. "Is that so? About what, might I ask?"

"A-About Frank," Sara admitted, and Pete smirked.

"Frank?" he asked. "What about him?"

"H-he's m-missing," she simply replied. "T-that's i-it."

Immediately the grip Pete had on her tightened and, out of fear, Tina shrieked. Sara struggled to breath, gasping for breath as Pete's hands wrung around her neck. She was going to pay for that last thing she said, wasn't she? It'd been something he'd told her in confidentiality, too. Oh, boy…

"We were talking about Frank, and you know what we were fucking talking about!" Tina finally exclaimed. "I saw you. Please, it's…it's not her fault, Petey."

"Don't fucking call me that."

"Why?" Tina taunted, angry now. There was obviously some truth to that statement, or else he wouldn't have reacted this way. "Because it's what fuck toy calls you? Oops, I forgot. It's what he called you."

"Take the shit back, Tina," Pete warned her, and she bit her tongue. She wasn't going to do anything too crazy. She had to set things straight with Pete. But her composition faltered once she saw blood dripping from Sara's neck, and heard her soft whimpers. But if what Sara had said was any bit true, then she was right with her statement. 'Petey' was a coined 'Frank-term,' meaning Frank was the one who started it all, which he did. Was that why Pete been so keen on her calling him that when they first met, with both her case and Sara's?

"Shut it!" Pete snapped, hitting Sara on the head. "You think I'm stupid or something? I heard everything you said, you little shit."

"P-Pete, ple-please st-stop," Sara cried, openly sobbing now. She didn't care how pitiful she sounded. The man was so close to killing her and now was not the time to worry about her composure. She wouldn't have any composure to care about if she died.

"I trusted your trifling ass, and I just gave you that fucking job! And you," he snarled at Tina. "Don't move your fucking tree stumps at all!"

Tina ignored the insult and obeyed, standing still as Pete advanced on her. She winced, expecting Pete to strike her when he neared. Instead, he walked past her and headed right for the place where the hidden gun was. Immediately, Tina hit her forehead. How could she let him get that far? She could have easily just gone. He hadn't had the gun on him yet…then again, he still had a knife, and that was pretty effective in itself.

Once he had the gun in his hand, he threw Sara upon Tina, knocking the both of them over. As he pointed the gun in their direction, he shouted, "Stand the fuck up!" Both girls tried to scramble up, and Pete menacingly stood over them.

"You two are going over to Mario's," Pete finally announced, before uttering another, "Shut up before I make you" at snot-faced Sara.

"W-why?" Tina dared ask, and Pete responded by smirking. He gave Tina a look that she knew too well, and she shut her eyes as she felt Pete pass by and grab her ass tightly, digging his nails into her flesh and causing her to cry out from the sharp pain.

"You guys are going because I fucking said so," Pete replied, whispering into her ear as he smiled and finally walked around the room. "I feel like celebrating, although I'm not gonna have as much fun as I will when I get back," he pondered to himself, before yelling at them again. "Get over here!"

Quietly, the two girls scurried over to where Pete was, near the window. He put on his jacket and packed some clothes before turning his attention back to the two girls. "What the fuck are you standing there for?" he demanded. "Un-fucking-dress. You especially, Tina, know how angry Mario is when he sees you clothed when you're supposed to be naked. Don't bring more pain on yourself. Take them off."

"Wh-what?" Sara asked in shock. Tina however, already familiar with the routine, bit her tongue and began to undress. Sara stared at her in surprise. "T-Tina? What are you doing?"

"Just do what he says," Tina whispered to her, but Sara shook her head. She'd never been raped before, and it wasn't going to start now. At least, not without some resistance on her part.

But as soon as she tried to make a move, Pete struck her down. Tina screamed when she saw Pete direct the gun at Sara, and she put herself in between the two of them. It wasn't so much that she was scared for Sara, but more for Pete. This time, if he shot Sara he was done for. He couldn't risk shooting her. Not here.

But Pete angrily shoved Tina away and jumped on Sara, restraining her. She gave a shriek and tried to kick Pete, but he started strangling her. She emitted short gasps, but it wasn't long until she passed out. Well, the blow he gave to her on her head helped a bit as well, Pete had to admit, proudly staring at the bruise he'd given her.

"Help me carry her, you fat bitch," Pete snapped. "Actually do something." Numbly, Tina helped. Even if she didn't agree with what he was doing now, she still loved him. And if she was ever going to win him over, she had to do it.

After Sara's body was lifted and tied onto the bed, Tina decided it was time to move things forward. "P-Pete?"

"What?" he snapped, gripping the gun.

"Don't…"

"Don't what?" he growled, but he faltered a bit when he saw the tears in Tina's eyes.

"Don't kill me…?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Pete asked, but he set the gun down. There was nothing in it anyway. He'd wasted all his bullets on Mikey, the dead fuck-up.

He then gripped his pocketknife tightly as he held the defenseless Tina by her wrists. He pulled her close, using the knife to tightly trace past scars on her face and arms that he'd given her. She truly was his, but he didn't want her anymore. That was the sad part…and he couldn't get her to see that. And he'd known her for too long to be as cruel to her as he wished he could be. That was his one flaw when it came to him and her.

"Take it off," he demanded, tugging Tina's bra. Tina obediently unhooked the bra and shrugged the straps off her shoulders. It wasn't long until the only article of clothing she had on was her underwear, and Pete stopped her then. Motioning to the dresser and the bed, he demanded, "Drug her, now."

"What are we doing?"

"If you two are gonna have a threesome, you'll need everyone to be active, won't you?" Pete asked, and Tina's eyes widened. Pete snickered. "What are you looking at me like that for? You've done this thousands of times with Mario. You know the drill."

"You're gonna make me rape her," Tina gasped, letting go of Sara's clothing. She'd never raped anyone before. Frank was another story, because even then she'd had no sexual encounters with Frank personally. Even if it had been the three of them, she was just there to watch; and then when Frank passed out from the massive stroking and drugs in his system, then she'd have her turn with Pete on the same bed. And yeah, she'd participated in sex with multiple partners, but they had all wanted it. This, however, was a different scenario.

But if she loved Pete and wanted to prove her love, she had to do it; although, the idea was still very heavy on her heart. Sara'd be screaming and upset for sure. "She'll hate it."

"She'll be so horny, she won't know the difference," Pete assured her. "Use the Finn…or GHB. I really don't care."

She hesitantly picked up the GHB and showed Pete, who nodded in approval. Next, she got the syringe and got a dosage that was purposely was over the requirement. She just gave the syringe two loads, each time flicking it once before inserting it into Sara's veins. Sara gave a small whine and Pete immediately began undressing himself.

"What happened to Mario?" Tina asked, becoming a bit more comfortable at the idea of Pete partaking in the event. All she had to do was treat Sara as if she were Frank, and then she'd have no problem. At least she'd be making out with Pete, an event that was much awaited.

Pete disappointed her, though, when he put on a new and fresh shirt and sprayed some perfume on himself. "Mario's coming, don't worry."

"Y-You're…you're not…?"

"I don't have time to," he replied, packing more things into his suitcase. This little scrimmage had cost him a good twenty minutes, and Mrs. Iero would be leaving in ten. "I thought I would be able to, but obviously not," he admitted, referring to the little rebellion that just occurred. "I want to, though." After his statement, he headed over to Tina and kissed her lips, making Tina tremble. She hadn't felt Pete's lips on her own for a long time. Not since Sara had come into the picture.

"I won't kill you yet," Pete murmured, licking her ear before he pulled back, closing his suitcase. "We're celebrating when I come back."

"W-what?" she asked. "Where…where're you going?" she asked, a bit scared.

"Don't worry, I called Mario and he's gonna take care of you two," Pete said, although they both knew what he meant by 'take care of you.' This was Mario they were talking about. Even if that was what his friend was supposed to be doing, he and Pete were twins in attitude.

"P-Pete?" she asked, questioning the man that she loved with all her heart. "C-can't you tell me? Don't you trust me?"

"You just betrayed my trust right there," Pete snapped, pointing a few feet away. "What the fuck was that about?"

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't wanna hear it."

"She was just so curious and I wanted to just prove to her that if she loved you she'd stay. That if she loved you, she wouldn't care about you and Frank. If she loved you," Tina continued, becoming a bit bold on her part, "in any amount or way that I did, she'd stay and deal with it. Deal with the good and the bad. Through the thick and thin. B-because…I think you're worth it, babe. I just…I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"Tina—"

"No, Pete," she continued, walking up to him. It was now, or never. No matter how crazed he'd become, this was her chance. The bitch was knocked out on the bed, and she was alone (in a sense) with Pete. "I…I love you, and I'll do anything it fucking takes, babe. What do you want me to do? Or do you want the both of us? Please, baby! I don't know what to do anymore! I-I'll do anything, Pete! Anything! I just want things to be how they were, before…"

This, right here, was the reason why he couldn't just dump her right on her ass. Yeah, she annoyed the hell out of him, but she was also a part of him. She'd grown to be his sister. Except, with fuck benefits. But she'd become a sister to him nonetheless.

"Well, baby," he murmured, shutting the suitcase full of both his and Frank's clothing. He turned to her and kissed her softly on the mouth, smiling a bit as he heard her whimper and moan at his touch. It was the least he could do, and somewhat thank her for doing all that she was doing. "Have fun with Mario while I'm gone."

Tina's heart fell. For a moment, she thought she'd broken through. But Pete didn't even fucking care…

"Because," Pete continued, kissing Tina all over her face, "when I come back…things are gonna…be the way…they were."

And her heart rose once more at the sound of that. She and Pete—finally—were going back to they way things were. That meant that when he came back from wherever he was heading, there would be no more Frank, and no more Sara. It would only be the two of them. Finally, Pete saw her in the same light! But she wanted to hear him say it, say her name like he used to, believe in the same thing she did.

"How…? What do you mean, baby?" she asked, pulling away. Pete's hands were still at her waist and hers around his neck. She bit her lip in eager anticipation, rubbing herself on Pete. Screw him and her making up after. She wanted him now. But what he said a second later ruined her mood completely.

Pete nibbled her ear, smiling before he whispered his response. "Frank is coming back with me in four days," he eagerly replied, pleased with Mrs. Iero's funeral plan. The woman was smart, indeed.

To add on to Tina's shitty mood, there was a nock on the door, and it wasn't long before Mario let himself in. He gave a whistle as he saw Pete and Tina holding each other, and he gave a nod to Sara, who was currently knocked out, but moaning.

"A crazy lady's outside, man," he warned Pete. "She seemed pretty angry, standing outside the car and shit…"

"Shit," Pete cursed to himself, breaking away from Tina. Adrenaline sped throughout his body as he ran for his suitcase. "Time's up," he nervously sang to himself.

For some reason, Pete had a feeling he was really going to see Frank. And then he'd be able to come back to the Iero household with everything normal again, and with Frank writhing beneath him, crying his eyes out. Although, hopefully due to some time away with Gerard, Frank had learned some new moves and gained a new attitude with sex. Hopefully, Frank would participate as much as he did. The thought made Pete shudder a bit, and he gave a small smile before yanking himself from Tina, who had tried to hold him again.

"Oh, she's naked, is she?" Mario asked, his attention now on the exposed Tina. She glared at him and Mario chuckled.

"And that girl on the bed's yours, too." Pete made sure to tell Mario everything that went on; when he came back, he didn't want to come back and still deal with Sara's behavioral problems. "She tried to rebel and I made Tina drug her."

"With what?"

"GHB."

"Ooooh," Mario said, chuckling. "So they're both mine?"

Pete's eyes traveled from the extremely horny Sara and the now crying Tina. "I know that one is, for sure," he said, watching as Sara continued moaning. Tina begrudgingly headed to her place toward the bed. Mario went to it as well, crawling over Sara as she moaned something about fucking and proceeded to take his clothes off.

"That's Sara," Pete said, as he assessed the room to make sure he hadn't left anything important. He heard her moan again. "Watch over that one, man. In case the GHB doesn't work, I've got the Mickey Finn for you, too."

"Will do," Mario laughed, pinning her to the bed and hearing her give a giggle. Tina sat behind Mario, an inactive part of the threesome.

"Don't worry," Pete said to Tina as Mrs. Iero gave another angry series of honks from down below. If Pete could hear a bit, he would have sworn he heard Frank's mother swearing at him. Tina looked up, her expression bleak. "When I come back, things will go back to normal, babe," Pete said, trying to cheer her up a bit. "We'll have Frank again. I miss him, too."

Just like that Pete was gone, running down the stairs to Frank, his true first love. And Tina remained in the room, next to Mario and Sara, who'd been moaning like a whore. She didn't deserve this. Why couldn't Pete see that? All he could fucking see was Frank. It was always about Frank 'this' or Frank 'that.' And then for a brief moment, it'd been Sara 'this.' Even then, it went back to Frank, and how Sara reminded him of that dumb Frank kid. But never, never had it been about her.

Well, fuck him, she angrily thought, viciously yanking Mario from the bitch. Her self-pity had turned to anger, and her anger turned into need. She wanted it now.

Sara gave a surprised gasp, but Tina didn't care. Mario would give her what she needed right now. If Pete wouldn't give it to her, if Pete would never give it to her, there was no need for her to feel guilty about enjoying herself. The fucker could do it with Frank. Hell, she knew he would, or had already. He'd taken pictures once, he told her.

Nonetheless, she would be imagining it was Pete the whole time.

And as she tasted what she imagined to be Pete's mouth, she felt what she imagined to be Pete's tongue on her lower back. She could hear both Mario and Sara moaning, but it was of little importance to her. She imagined that it was Pete who had started sucking on her nipples, while Pete also bit her inner thighs. She imagined it was Pete touching her sweet spot at the same time that she had succumbed to Pete's supposed face fucking, grasping Mario's lower half and pulling Sara's long and bothersome hair.

And for the first time since Frank had run off, she felt amazing.


	50. A Side of Me You Didn't Know

** A Side Of Me You Didn't Know**

"What do you want for dinner?" Gerard asked, heading over to the coffee table. He had the phone in his hand, debating whether or not they would have take-out or just skip it, eating some candy from the leftovers of Dan's 'trick-or-treating treats.' Gerard had eaten some before, but had stashed the rest of them away in the closet somewhere. Maybe they'd eat Skittles or something of the like, if Frank was up for it. However, that seemed pretty unlikely.

The day had been kind of awkward; the couple refused to speak to one another directly. They were not upset with each other, per say. They just avoided each other's presence as much as possible, which was kind of hard to do when they were both confined in the same room. And it was only natural that an action like this would create an awkward atmosphere.

What was there to say in this case? Frank's mother had essentially given them the offer to turn themselves in (in some shape or form), and Gerard was all for it…Frank wasn't—but he would go for it just because Gerard was for it. Gerard couldn't help but feel bad about the situation, and every time he looked at Frank he felt kind of guilty at what he was 'making' them do. But this was his brother they were talking about. Before Frank came into the picture, he was the reason why Gerard decided to keep his life. He at least owed a 'goodbye' to Mikey.

Frank understood that, Gerard was sure of it. But Frank's mood, Gerard noticed, had significantly dimmed. Frank remained unmoving, his head still lying on the table as his arms cushioned him. He had been in this position for the past four hours, rejecting the offer for lunch as well and refusing to emit any sounds at all. He barely even gave an audible answer to Gerard's question now, emitting a groan in reply instead. Gerard would have never known Frank was still alive and breathing had it not been for that one time he had patted Frank on the back and felt Frank's heartbeat as he passed by.

Frank wasn't hungry; what couldn't Gerard get about that? He hadn't been hungry during lunch time, and he wasn't hungry now. He'd come to grips with the fact that he and Gerard essentially had two days together instead of four, because they'd be spending the third day driving to Bergen County and the fourth day handing each other in. So in actuality, they had today and tomorrow…in fact, he was still coming to grips with that fact. Two days was so small…

Fuck his fucking fuck-tard of a mother.

Gerard read Frank as openly as a book, reading the lazy slump as a note of depression and worry, and reading Frank's eyes as a note of hopelessness and despair. "Babe?" Gerard asked worriedly, finally pressing to get legitimate reaction from his boyfriend. Frank grunted again, this time using some of his energy to shrug as well. He was mentally busy: busy planning, busy scheming, and busy plotting.

Maybe there would be a way that he and Gerard could see Mikey, yet slip out undetected. Then they could arrive and blend in with the crowd, slipping out last minute before they got caught in a getaway car or something. But that wouldn't work because security would probably already be in place, and Gerard's family members would probably recognize him.

Better yet, they could rent a car or something and sneak in before the service. They could say goodbye to Mikey and then speed off. But that would mean that they would leave by tonight. And what if the body hadn't been prepared yet? He hadn't seen the body but, according to the news anchors, it wasn't a pretty sight. He didn't want to rush it all to have Gerard go through more grief. Plus, that would mean they would officially have no days left with each other. And if Frank was going to have his way, they had to at least have those two…

So, what if he could get someone to videotape the funeral for both him and Gerard? Then they could both watch it and say goodbye to Mikey that way. Then again, it probably wouldn't be the same for Gerard—

"Frank," Gerard tried again, heading over to the table as he interrupted Frank's thoughts. Frank looked up, his expression completely bleak as he lifted his head. "Food?" Gerard asked once more, chuckling. He waved the phone in Frank's face but Frank never replied, shrugging instead. Jokingly, Gerard took it a step further with Frank's responses. "One grunt means 'yes,' and two for 'no.'"

"I'm not hungry," Frank grouchily grumbled in reply, putting his head on the table once more. He wasn't in the mood for joking. He was too busy trying to make sure they would still have a future with each other, minus the prison bars.

"I know you're hungry, babe," Gerard said, chuckling again. He knew what was on Frank's mind, but Frank couldn't take the whole task into his own hands. This whole thing wasn't his problem alone. He wanted Frank to see the brighter side of things as well. True, they only had a few days left together. What they had to do was make the best of them, which would never happen in this atmosphere. Gerard felt like he needed to lighten up the tension. He couldn't take the uncomfortable silence anymore. He would hate himself if they spent their last hours together in silence.

Frank gave him a weary look, questioning Gerard's statement. "Why?" he asked, nestling his head against the arm on the table and humoring Gerard's statement. Gerard's chirpy mood was slightly irritating at the moment, but it was only because Gerard was trying so hard…

"Well, eating is all you ever do," Gerard snickered. To Gerard's amusement, Frank broke his prior vow and smiled, a playful glint in his eyes. Even when he didn't want to, Gerard managed to get it done. He never wanted them to go back, yet here they were…and he hadn't wanted to smile at his stupid joke, but here he was…smiling at it anyway. Gerard could get him to do whatever he wanted quite easily. It was a weakness Frank had when it came to Gerard.

"Screw you," Frank muttered to him, not bothering to lift his head from it's resting position.

Behind the childish act, Frank was still upset. He was upset at how easily manipulated he was when it came to Gerard. He was upset about how angry he seemed to be, but how nonchalant—and even happy—Gerard was about the whole situation. Their days were limited and Gerard didn't seem to care. At least, it didn't seem to be as much as an issue for Gerard as it was for Frank, which was what really bothered him.

Maybe Gerard wanted to head back, Frank finally figured. That was the only explanation, wasn't it? He couldn't really blame him, though.

"I thought you wanted to 'love' me," Gerard joked again, earning a subtle smile from Frank instead of the wide grin he was hoping for.

"Yeah, well now I want to screw you," Frank nonchalantly replied, spitting out replies to Gerard's attempts at icebreakers. He was still thinking of what to do, and when to do it. Things needed to work out between the two of them. Were they just going to hand each other in? Or would they end up writing letters to each other, to and from prison? Would they just stop altogether? If Gerard wanted to be rid of him, the last option seemed the most likely. Fuck, this was all so wrong!

"Harsh, aren't we?" Gerard asked, but Frank didn't answer. Frank gave a light grunt before focusing his attention elsewhere, burying his head back in its nest within his arms. As soon as Gerard saw Frank spaced out again, he knew immediately where Frank's mind was. "Frank, don't…"

"Don't even try to talk me out of it!" Frank exploded, clearly angry now. If Gerard wasn't sure about it before, he was sure of it now. "I know what we're doing is right, but…Gee, I don't want to. I want you here, with me." His firm and stern voice faltered a bit toward the end, and he seemed more vulnerable than he had when he'd been quiet. Gerard couldn't stand to see Frank like that, and so he tried to come up with the type of thing he should say.

"Maybe they'll find some evidence that'll make me innocent—"

"There's no way," Frank sadly said, shaking his head. "No fucking way. Even if they didn't get you for the murder or the rape, they'd get you on kidnapping charges."

"There's a range on the sentencing, though…isn't there?" Gerard asked, sitting next to Frank. Frank shrugged.

"Of course there is, but…the odds aren't good," he truthfully told Gerard, hoping to selfishly convince Gerard to reconsider the funeral trap. "You would have had a much easier shot at a lower sentence had I been an adult. But, since I was legally underage…Gee, I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Gerard automatically replied. It was like a reflex response for him whenever Frank voiced his fears, but in this case it was true. If Frank meant that he thought Gerard would forget about him, then he was dead wrong. Frank would never lose him, in that sense. But he could lose Frank on the other hand, once he went to prison. There was no way he was going to demand Frank stay with him until he served his prison sentence. The kid was eighteen years. He still had his whole life ahead of him.

"Yes I will!" Frank slapped his forehead as he scrunched his eyes. "Gerard…now's not the time to be fucking optimistic." Frank chastised his boyfriend. This was getting so fucking annoying. Frank knew Gerard was human. It was okay if Gerard had doubts. But what bothered him now was how 'happy-go-lucky' Gerard seemed to be about the whole thing. Things do not always go the way people expect them to. "Get with reality!" Frank further demanded, glaring at him.

"If I ever accepted reality, I would have never met you," Gerard calmly replied, trying to get Frank to see reason…and how lack of it ended them where they were now.

Frank's heart softened at those words, but that wasn't the point. The point was Gerard was being so fucking optimistic about it when there was nothing to be optimistic about…unless he was optimistic about not being with Frank anymore. Part of him wanted to believe that, but the other half of him thought better of it.

That last comment Gerard had made was proof. As Gerard's statement repeated in his mind, Frank's eyes watered while he shook his head. "You wouldn't have been here," Frank corrected him, sniffling. He raised his head from its comfortable position in order to quickly wipe away tears. Gerard already saw, mistaking the tears to be tears of sadness; but they were also tears of anger and frustration. At who, Frank wasn't sure. But he knew he was angry. He wanted to scream, yell, punch, kick, scratch, bite…you name it, he wanted to do it. And Gerard trying to touch Frank wasn't helping him at all.

"That's okay, baby," Gerard replied to Frank's tears, and Frank backed away from him. Gerard retracted, not sure how to handle the situation or figure out what to say. "Frankie, don't—"

"Shut up, Gerard," Frank demanded, sitting up and shocking the elder. He surprised himself as well; he hadn't expected to say that aloud, but he had, so he might as well have continued his rant. "Just…fucking shut up! I get it. You want to go, okay? Just…fuck off."

Frank rose from his seat and walked by the edge of the bed where he had answered the fatal call he received from his mother. Angrily, he grabbed some clothes before brushing by Gerard to head over to the suitcase where the spider once was. Thank god it was gone now. But part of him had wished he'd done something about it himself, instead of answering that damn call as an escape. Sure, Gerard would have missed the funeral, but he'd be with Gerard for the long run. Now, Gerard wanted to go back. And in that stupid little head of Gerard's, things would 'go back to normal.' And the sun would come out, and everybody would just be fucking dandy as the two of them walked down the block, hand in hand as a sweet and loving song played in the background.

Yeah, fucking right.

Gerard rose too, and followed his PMS-ing boyfriend as he angrily packed. "You think I'm happy about this?" Gerard finally demanded, grabbing Frank's wrist as the young man held a pair of underwear in his hands. It was the only thing Gerard could think of doing, still a bit shocked by Frank's outburst. If anything he expected Frank to sit and pout, and his only job would be to console him. But now, Frank was angry. Come to think of it, Gerard had only seen Frank angry a few times.

Frank struggled to get out of his grasp, but Gerard kept his hold. "Get the fuck of off me," Frank calmly demanded, which scared Gerard a little. But there was no way Gerard was going to give Frank the upper hand. Upon realizing this, Frank sighed and used his other hand to pack and stuff some clothes into the suitcase while Gerard stood there, silently demanding Frank to look at him. At first, Frank refrained. However, he had no choice but to look at Gerard once Gerard captured both of his hands.

"Frank, look at me," Gerard demanded, pleadingly.

"What the fuck do you want?" Frank snapped. "You want to go, so I'm fucking packing for us. Back off."

"You think I want to leave?" Gerard asked in disbelief. Frank was misunderstanding his optimism, then. Because Gerard didn't want to go, but they had to. How come Frank couldn't see that? Why not spend their last hours together, happy with each other? Sure time was running out, but that didn't have to bring the mood down. Frank, obviously, took his approach to mean that he didn't care. Fuck, this was so frustrating…he acted one way, and Frank read it in another.

"I dunno," Frank replied, shrugging. The familiar tone of the 'old Frank' had come back, and it was driving Gerard crazy. "But," Frank added, "I know you're pretending to be fine about it, and I'm not gonna do that. I'm not fucking fine with it."

"I'm not fine with it either," Gerard said, trying to convince Frank. "But you need to know that there are other options out there—"

"Tell that to a three year old," Frank snapped. "Stop wasting our time and get the fuck off of me."

Neither would give in. Gerard refused to let go, his eyes burning into Frank's own. Frank had to hear him out. He had to find a way to show Frank, to get his method and means across. Going did make him seem bad, and he knew that. But what did Frank expect him to do? Miss the only chance to see his brother again? He could never do that. And that was the only reason why they would go, not because he wanted to be rid of Frank. He loved Frank to death. And by going, it was true he'd probably get caught. Even better, he'd be setting Frank free. That'd been the whole reason why he'd kidnapped Frank in the first place.

Well, it'd been part of the reason.

He'd taken Frank because he thought the kid had potential, and he wanted to make Frank happy again. He wanted to take him away from whatever trouble that was there that made him run away and conceal himself as well as his personality. And as time went on, he wanted to teach Frank how to fall in love, because that's what had happened to him as he spent more time with the kid. He'd fallen in love, and he wanted Frank to experience the wonderful feeling love could give. After he heard the story of how Pete took advantage of him, he wanted Frank to know damn well the difference between Pete's sick and twisted version of 'love' and the true feeling of love.

And he'd done that. He was pretty sure Frank knew the difference now, so technically…his job was done, right? His agenda had been reached, and it would be anything but fair for him to restrict Frank and demand he love him back after this was all over. It would be like he was forcing Frank to stick with him through all the hell he'd have to go through. His only job was to coach the kid into the experience. After this, Frank should be free to go and love whomever he wanted, knowing what love was and what love could give him.

What Gerard didn't notice was the fact that Frank didn't care about what Gerard's fucking 'job' was, or what was the 'right' thing to do. If his heart wasn't in it, Frank felt, Gerard shouldn't have done it. And he couldn't figure out if Gerard's heart really wanted them going back there, handing themselves in. Or maybe he didn't, and that was the thing that was bothering him. He couldn't figure Gerard out. Instead of acting all 'peachy-keen,' why not explain himself to Frank so that he wouldn't get confused? Because it seemed like, to Frank, Gerard really wanted to go back. Badly.

It would hurt like a bitch, if that were the case. He felt like he was a toy being returned to the store, because the kid that received him didn't like him anymore. Maybe he was exaggerating, but that's how he would feel if worse came to worse. When he was with Pete, he felt like an old toy that was always abused and neglected. He felt like a waste of space sometimes. But when it came to Gerard, he'd felt like his favorite toy; one that a kid would always play with and never get tired of.

But he was wrong…as usual.

Gerard tightened his hold on Frank, earning an angry grunt from his captive. Fuck what Gerard was thinking now. Frank didn't care. He had his own agenda, called 'Get the fuck off of me.' "If we're handing ourselves in, or I should say 'if you're handing us in,'" Frank muttered, "there's no time to waste, hm?"

Gerard's eyes grew darker as he heard the accusing tone in Frank's voice. "Or better yet," Frank continued, feeling Gerard tighten his hold, "we could just go days ahead of schedule, you know? How does tomorrow sound? Just think…by this time tomorrow, you'll be rid of me." Frank couldn't help it as his thoughts poured out, no matter their bias nature. What pissed Frank off even more was that his composure against Gerard was crumbling while he tried to make his case. How would that happen with him crying?

"You'll be rid of me, this stupid motel…everything that's been holding you back for the last few months," Frank went on, blinking tears away. "And you don't care. Of course you don't! None of this was important to you. It didn't mean an ounce of anything it meant to me—"

"What's that supposed to fucking mean?" Gerard growled, glaring at him. His grip on Frank strengthened even more, if possible, and he pulled Frank closer to him. Part of him wished he hadn't done that, because he could clearly see the tears forming in Frank's eyes. He knew that would ruin his stern attitude on the younger man, but it was an impulse to want to beat the shit out of him after a comment like that. It was so off!

"No one fucking cares," Frank muttered, his voice cracking as a tear made its way down his face. But the expression on his face was a bit deceiving. He'd sounded so broken and hurt, but his face reflected immense anger, Gerard noted.

"Ever," Frank continued, ripping himself from Gerard's hold and earning a scratch from the brash act. He ignored the pain and the little bit of blood appearing at the site as he continued packing. He picked up another clothing item as he continued with, "He was right, and I was stupid to believe you were any different," with his back facing Gerard. Gerard couldn't stand to see Frank cry, couldn't stand to see his angel in turmoil—especially over him. Frank didn't even need to mention the name in order for Gerard to understand who he was speaking about. But he quickly overlooked that fact after his mind registered what Frank actually meant with his last comment.

Gerard lost his cool after Frank muttered those words and forcefully shoved Frank against the wall, holding Frank there. There was a loud thud as Frank's back hit the wall, since the wall had been a good yard away. He gave a groan from the hard contact, but Gerard could care less at the moment. What Frank was suggesting was ludicrous. How on Earth could he think so? If he really felt that way about the situation, then that would mean their whole time together amounted to nothing. So yeah, Gerard was a bit quick to jump at the chance of going to the funeral. But it was his last chance to see Mikey, before they would 'shove his body into the ground,' in the words of Mrs. Iero.

"Don't make me, Frank," Gerard warned him, shaking his head at his trapped prey. "Don't make me choose between you and my brother again."

"I would never make you choose," Frank replied, his lips pursed as he stared Gerard in the eye. "I wouldn't make you chose between me and your life, me and Pete, or me and your brother. Although in that case, it's obvious to see who you've chosen…"

Gerard's other hand was immediately in midair after that comment, ready to beat some sense into Frank. For a moment, Frank wasn't sure what Gerard was going to do. His uncertainty reflected on his face as his expression went from anger to worry.

Gerard was at a loss for words. What the fuck was Frank saying? If Frank fucking knew anything, he would have known that Gerard had 'technically' chosen him over his brother, which was why Mikey was currently dead. For him to think of it as 'nothing' made it seem like Mikey had died in vain. Mikey died (in short) for them, and because Gerard refused to give Frank up in time. And to hear this from Frank was just so aggravating. He wanted to embed it in Frank's fucking skull that he loved him. So what if he wanted to go back? It didn't mean he loved him any less.

Going back would be the best for Frank anyway. Gerard already had it planned out. He'd go to prison after breaking up with Frank, letting Frank go out on his own and experience love with someone else that was less of a burden. Frank could use what he learned with his time here and apply it to his 'new' life.

Frank's new boyfriend would hopefully bring him much joy and pleasure by kissing those soft lips of Frank's and hearing Frank moan from the slightest of touches. His boyfriend would enjoy watching Frank sleep, feeling the soft and rhythmic rise and fall of Frank's chest against his own, hearing Frank murmur in his sleep about his latest fantasy, and watching Frank's priceless expressions during slumber. He'd enjoy Frank's unique laughter, as well as watching his adorable pouts after losing an argument. He'd enjoy, most of all, Frank's compassion.

The last thought was what drove Gerard and compelled him the most to take advantage of the situation, lowering his hand. He wasn't going to hit him; he couldn't. In fact, he was a bit frightened that the idea ran through his head. Instead, he was going to show Frank just how much he meant to him. Hopefully, a kiss would do it. He thought he'd done enough last time, but apparently the effect had worn off. He needed to make the impression a lasting one, now. Show Frank a bit of his own compassion.

Frank watched in confusion as Gerard's angry eyes bared deep within him. Gerard looked ready to harm him, yet at the same time he seemed so concerned. Frank relaxed, however, as he felt Gerard's face near his. It wasn't long before an electric shock went throughout his body and he gripped the arm Gerard now forcefully held him against the wall with. Gerard immediately moved that hand as to make it so that he was now caressing Frank's chin. Frank's eyes became half-lidded at the touch and he closed his eyes as he felt another hand of Gerard's within his hair, heartbeat now racing. It wasn't long before they were chest-to-chest, and lip-to-lip.

With Gerard's body now pressed against him and Gerard's hands entrapped within his hair and caressing his chin, Frank welcomed Gerard's lustful and harsh tongue lashing against his own. He willingly went ahead with Gerard's direction of his head, actively participating in the kiss. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Gerard and taste him. He hadn't tasted him for so long, even if that meant a couple days.

He wanted Gerard to release his anger and frustration. Deep down inside, Frank knew that most of the things he said probably weren't true, but he couldn't help but voice his doubts. He was angry at something or someone; he wasn't sure yet. But he knew the anger was stemming from the fact that they were handing themselves in soon. And he knew there was anger in Gerard; Frank could see it. He could feel it. Whether that anger had been there all along or had just arisen due to Frank's behavior, Frank was sure Gerard needed to relieve his stress, and he knew how he was going to get him to do so.

Both boys were eventually moaning, nothing loud enough to hinder their make-out session. Gerard succumbed to Frank's body movements and used the hand he now had around Frank's waist to roughly rub the young man's body against his genitals. It was then that Gerard snapped out of it, pulling away. Frank had given a blissful moan, shuddering tremendously at the impact. Frank tried to continue the heated kiss, but Gerard physically pushed him away. He knew he shouldn't have done that. He'd just meant to kiss Frank, not to initiate something that he may later regret.

But Frank came back, lips immediately attached elsewhere on Gerard's skin.

"No," Frank interrupted him, kissing Gerard's neck. "I want us to," he reiterated, being sure to grip Gerard as he willingly continued to rub himself against his boyfriend.

Gerard shook his head, trying to push Frank off of him once more. He knew himself, and knew he did many things he wasn't proud of when he was angry or provoked. It was then when his true colors showed, and he wanted Frank to remember him as…well, as long as Frank never experienced him in a crazed state, he was fine.

But Gerard had almost lost his cool with Frank many times before. In fact, before the whole kidnapping thing even happened, he almost lost his cool. Frank had suggested they go their separate ways so that Gerard couldn't possibly be charged. Back then, he'd almost hit Frank, was about to kiss him, but backed off. And when Frank did that stunt not too long ago with the money and the goodbye notes, he'd lost his cool as well; which ended up with them making love that night, or early morning (as Frank would have pointed out). And now…

He was going to hurt Frank; he was sure of it. Part of him wanted to give Frank his space. But the other part of him wanted to bash Frank's head in…in both senses. Letting Frank have his own space obviously wasn't working out how it was supposed to, so why couldn't he maybe…try the other option out? Frank was being so fucking stubborn, after all. Gerard wanted to knock his head against the wall, the table, something—just to get some sense in that dense head of his. But Gerard knew, with his strong urge to instill some sense into Frank, things would not end well. In other words, Frank would end up harmed once they were done. He didn't want to do that.

Gerard held his breath as he felt Frank's wet tongue apply pressure against his vein. "Frank," he started, raising his hands to restrain him. He entangled his fingers in Frank's hair, ready to pull the young man back. "You're doing this because you think we don't have enough time—"

"We don't," was his reply, and he continued to suck on Gerard's neck. Surprisingly enough, Gerard never pulled Frank away.

"I…I shouldn't have done that, Frank," Gerard decided to continue, picking his words carefully. "I was…I was angry, babe," he tried to explain. Frank never stopped sucking on him though, and Gerard started stuttering; he seemed to forget where his hands were placed. "I a-almost hit you b-before."

"But you kissed me," Frank murmured, now sucking on Gerard's jaw line. He knew the moment Gerard was referring to, remembering how the rush of both fear and thrill seized his senses before Gerard gave in to the strongest urge of all and kissed him. With that in mind, Frank continued rubbing himself on Gerard as he neared his boyfriend's ear. "If you're still angry, you could hit me, too…you know," he seductively purred, raising one of his legs and wrapping it around Gerard's waist. He gave a sharp gasp as he felt Gerard's hard-on, biting his lower lip. He looked up to see Gerard doing the same, debating with himself. "Show me, Gerard," Frank murmured for good measure, rubbing himself eagerly on the unsure man before him.

"I…I don't want to show you anything," Gerard unconvincingly stated, finally remembering what the hell he was supposed to be doing with his hands in Frank's hair. He finally gripped Frank and pulled his head back, trying to move Frank off of him. But his actions ceased when he felt the hard-on Frank was sporting as well as the friction Frank was creating. The act alone forced Frank to arch his back as he tried to keep balance against the wall.

"Let me, Gee," Frank pleaded, his eyes rolling back as he hooked his other leg onto Gerard's waist. Frank clutched onto Gerard, eagerly and whorishly grinding against him as he used the wall for support.

"F-Frank—"

"Shh," Frank seductively demanded, rolling his hips and shuddering once more. "Remind me, Gee," he whispered, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly agape. He could see Gerard giving in, and he started panting as he put more energy into the dry humping. It wasn't long before Gerard's hands moved on to other parts of his body, hugging him. Frank was going to be shameless tonight. It was his goal to have Gerard beat (and fuck) the shit out of him. He could tell Gerard wanted to hurt someone or something, and Frank wanted to be hurt. It was the perfect match.

"Remind me who I belong to…" Frank pleaded, eyes shut as he felt Gerard support him. Frank knew he had ultimately won, putting more energy into the blatant grinding as he heard Gerard give in and moan.

"Don't you belong to me?" Gerard groaned, surrendering to Frank's persistency. He began to move his hips as well, hands firmly placed against Frank's lower backside as he pressed their bodies together. Frank threw his head back, giving choked gasps as he grabbed Gerard's shoulders. Gerard made sure to close any space between the two of them, pinning Frank's back against the wall as he grinded against Frank's hips.

"Do I?" Frank taunted him. He was obviously taking a stab at his last comment regarding Mikey, and Gerard picked up on that, his anger returning.

Gerard gave Frank a menacing glare as he pulled Frank's hair. Frank winced, a smirk on his face as his grip on Gerard tightened. "You don't know anything," Gerard warned him. "So shut up."

"Shut me up," Frank demanded smugly, creating more friction. "Oh fuck…"

Gerard struggled for words to say, confused on how to tackle the problem. This wasn't going to turn out in the same way their first encounter did. They were both fairly annoyed at each other, and Frank wanted this handled pretty harshly, compared to how he did the first time they were intimate with each other. He was a lot bolder as well, pulling Gerard against him and demanding he do what he wanted. Or demanding what he wanted to do to him. Either way, there was a dominant air around Frank. Frank was really just acting like a kinky whore, but that made him seem dominant in a sense. Maybe it was because Gerard was used to Frank's reticence. How exactly was a horny Frank? He could work with that…maybe.

While Gerard blanked out for a moment, Frank wasted no time removing Gerard's shirt, licking his lip as he lustfully eyed Gerard's chest. He threw the shirt on the floor, getting the damn piece of cloth out of the way. Gerard looked into Frank's eyes and tried to get Frank off of him before he gave in to the dark fantasy he had already playing in his mind, but Frank's lips attached themselves to Gerard's nipples. After that moment, Gerard decided whatever was going to happen would happen. He wouldn't fight it anymore. He wanted to beat the shit out of Frank, and Frank wanted him to beat him. If he let himself, the both of them could enjoy the rush and the thrill as much as they wanted to.

Frank moaned as he felt Gerard throw caution to the wind, grinding harshly against his body. Gerard gave a shiver as he felt Frank's lip-ring against his nipple instead of against his jaw, entangling his hands in Frank's hair and yanking him violently to attend to his other nipple—his favorite nipple. Gerard held his breath as he felt Frank's tongue lap against his already hardened nipple, Frank nibbling him. Although the act was small, it was a fetish of his and he'd always imagined Frank doing so to him. And here Frank was, lapping against him with his lip-ring as well. Frank's tongue and lips pressed against Gerard's flesh and Gerard started panting.

"Oh god," he gasped, holding Frank in place with his free hand. His gasps quickened as he felt Frank's slide lower and lower on his body, Frank's tongue making sure to leave a trail of saliva along its journey. It was obvious that Frank was bored of the nipple play, already heading south. Not that Gerard had any problem with that. "Frank…"

"No," Frank moaned. He was going to sell himself out. For the first time—willingly—he wanted to suck dick. A.k.a., he wanted to give Gerard a blowjob, meaning Frank wanted Gerard's dick in his mouth. He wanted Gerard to face-fuck him, holding his hair and jabbing his cock further into his throat. The urge was surprisingly strong. His heart pounded against his throat as he licked his lips in anticipation. He hoped Gerard would be much more forceful with him, and he was sure giving Gerard a blowjob would open him up.

He made himself slide off of Gerard's middle section, as hard as it was, and landed on his knees with a light thud. He then grasped onto Gerard's hips, viciously yanking on the material covering Gerard's legs as he forcefully turned Gerard so that he was now against the wall. "Off," he weakly demanded, trying to unbutton Gerard while he panted. Gerard wouldn't help out at first, so Frank resulted to nibbling the cloth that resided over the area, making Gerard squirm and eventually give in. Gerard quickly freed himself after he felt Frank's teeth graze against him.

Soon Gerard's pants were removed, and he laid against the wall with nothing but his boxers on. If Frank took Gerard's boxers off, it would be the end of Gerard's last minute 'good' callings. The moment would have been set in stone as a done deal. Because he knew he'd stop his urges. And by this point, whatever he wanted done was going to be done. He'd make sure of it. "Don't Frank," he warned one last time.Because if you don't…

"I want to, babe," Frank said, resting the side of his head against Gerard's lower stomach. He could feel Gerard's dick throbbing against his check and he shuddered. He was so close, so close to fulfilling his urge of having Gerard's cock fill his mouth. Slowly, he let his tongue poke out from his lip as he eased the boxers down. Gerard shuddered in response as his last bit of self-control was thrown out the window. There was no way he wanted Frank to stop; not after he felt the wet and moist tip of Frank's tongue on the end of his member.

Frank yanked Gerard's boxers all the way down to his ankles, opening his mouth wider as he engulfed Gerard's length, moaning eagerly. "Le' me sucgh yoo," he groaned against Gerard's penis, rolling his eyes as he rubbed his face into Gerard's middle section. He could feel Gerard tense up before he felt a pair of hands entrapping themselves in his hair. And not too long after, Gerard gave a growl of approval. Whatever Frank was doing was fucking working. He'd never been so verbal before with his sexual encounters, but this case was different. He was going to enjoy himself the way he always imagined doing. "Oh, Gerard…" he pleaded, playing his part. He gave a moan as he played with Gerard's tip. "Let me…"

Gerard leaned against the wall, not bothering to hold himself up on his own any more. He thrust his hips forward, encouraging Frank to deep throat him. Sure, it made him kind of greedy with the whole thing. But he wasn't thinking about whether or not he was being greedy. The only thing on his mind was whether or not he could get more of his dick in Frank's amazingly tight and small mouth. His hands tightened their hold on Frank's head, being sure to shove Frank's pretty little head against his midsection. "F-Fuck it, Frank," he groaned, closing his eyes.

"Ugh, Gee," Frank moaned, bobbing his head against Gerard's member. His hands wrapped around Gerard's waist, welcoming Gerard's thrusts as he eagerly pulled Gerard a bit deeper in response. He was going to eat Gerard; it was a done deal. There was no way Gerard would pull out now and end it all. And there was no way he was going to let Gerard do such a thing.

He let his tongue flicker to the base of Gerard's sac, causing the older man to lose his balance leaning against the wall. Gerard's knees soon gave way; Frank used them as his support as he dove his head further into Gerard's crotch, a hand on each knee. Gerard gave a sharp groan, growling afterwards as he became eye-level with Frank and saw his boyfriend eating him out. The image was extremely sexy.

Gerard slowly eased himself completely off the wall, leaving his back to use the floor as support. Frank made sure to never leave his place, crawling as he sucked Gerard off to accommodate for the fact that Gerard was repositioning himself. He eventually ended up between Gerard's legs, both of which were widened by the hold he had on his knees. Gerard had ground his hips as well as he continued to face-fuck Frank. Frank gave whorish moans and gasps, being sure to deep-throat his boyfriend and give him the time of his life. While his tongue played Gerard, Gerard's member (in turn) played with him. Feeling the pulse run through Gerard's dick was renovating. He wanted to make love to Gerard's cock like it was the last time they would ever see each other again; besides, his tongue and Gerard's member deserved some serious bonding time. Gerard had sucked him off before. It was only fair.

Gerard's hands never left their place on Frank's head, forcing Frank to keep his place as well, whether he wanted to or not. But both boys knew how the other felt. Just to make sure there was no confusion, Frank started moaning about how much more he wanted it, wanted Gerard. The moaning got to him and Gerard forcefully flipped Frank over so that he was now against the floor, and crawled on top of Frank's sex-crazed face. No words needed to be exchanged. Both he and Gerard knew what the other wanted, and Frank willingly complied, pulling and urging Gerard to rest his crotch against his face.

"Suck me, Frank," Gerard demanded, eyes blissfully shut as he ardently grounded his hips against Frank's face. "Oh!"

"Mghh," Frank moaned, moving his head along with Gerard's thrusts. He used his hands to ensure Gerard remained on top of his face before he continued his task of moaning how much he loved it, which wasn't that hard to do when it was all true. Frank now wished that he had taken off his clothes as well, instead of only focusing on Gerard's nudity. The pants he was wearing had become extremely confined now, and he wanted to find a way to relieve himself.

"Ugh, ugh, ughhhhh!" Gerard rolled his eyes back. He thrust into Frank once more, having Frank's teeth graze against his cock. Frank groaned, rolling his eyes as his panted. An idea popped into Frank's mind as he thought about sucking Gerard elsewhere. In actuality, it had always been in the back of his mind. But now, he was debating whether or not he'd actually carry it out. Gerard sounded like he was pretty close anyway. And after about a few seconds of deliberation, Frank let his tongue travel under Gerard's midsection on the path down to Gerard's asshole. And when his tongue prodded his entrance, Gerard froze, his eyes instantly snapping open.

"F-Frank!" Gerard opened his legs wider as well, panting as he felt Frank kiss his ass—literally. It wasn't long before he was going to come over. "D-Don't…don't stop," Gerard demanded. He continued to harshly grind himself against Frank, who eagerly continued to bob his head in response. His hands ran up Gerard's back, pressing Gerard down against him. He let his tongue lash widely inside Gerard, and Gerard gave high-pitched gasps as his fingers continued pulling out Frank's hair. Gerard shivered as he felt Frank's tongue erect within him, and he shuddered once more as he felt Frank chuckle, sending vibrations throughout his system.

"Ah, god!" Gerard groaned, quickening his pace against Frank. Frank obliged, teeth scraping Gerard as he essentially let his boyfriend ride his face. Frank let his head bob, back and forth as he awkwardly used one hand to encircle and pump Gerard's cock. Gerard jolted, eyes squeezed shut as he rocked harder on Frank and his perfect little mouth. Feeling Frank pump him and cradling his sack sent Gerard on a roller coaster ride, and he could feel the pressure building up.

"Agh—Oh!" Gerard screamed, releasing himself on Frank's hair and hands. Frank gave a seductive moan upon feeling Gerard's walls spazz against his wet tongue. Gerard violently rode out his orgasm as well, yanking Frank's head back and grinding heavily against him, giving the back of Frank's neck rug burn. Frank went with the flow, eventually allowing his tongue to slide out of Gerard's ass and back onto his member, where he licked the remaining juice right off of Gerard's cock, shivering as he felt Gerard give a light moan. Gerard's juice tasted like candy compared to where his mouth had been prior. Not that he was complaining. He'd wanted to, and did.

Gerard eventually got off of Frank, rolling to the side of Frank while he caught his breath. Frank remained beside Gerard, panting as he tried to regain his breath as well. He was proud of himself. It was obvious that Gerard had a great time. His forehead and hair was sticky with Gerard's cum as proof, but that was the least of his problems. He didn't mind Gerard's release on his body. To him, it just symbolized and reiterated the fact that he was Gerard's. Gerard's cum on his body was a way of Gerard marking his property, in Frank eyes. And if he was Gerard's he was counting on fulfilling his end of the bargain. Hopefully, oral sex wasn't the only thing Gerard was looking for.

He'd said it was his goal to get fucked by Gerard, hadn't he?

Frank was interrupted by his thoughts when he felt Gerard's wet lips on his skin a few minutes later. "I knew you were fucking hungry," he heard Gerard eventually mutter against his cheek. A smug smile made its way on Frank face.

"Only when it comes to you," Frank replied, giving a satisfied sigh. Gerard gave a chuckle before entrapping Frank's lips within his own. He lightly nibbled Frank's lower lip, the lip-ring serving as a toy for his tongue. Soon he stuck his tongue in Frank's mouth, tasting sex on Frank's tongue. It was odd for Gerard to taste something foreign like that off of Frank's tongue. He'd always associated Frank with innocence. But if they were going to have sex like this, it was only natural; he had to get used to it.

It was only when he raised his hand and cradled Frank's face, feeling his sticky cum all over Frank, that Gerard pulled back. He wiped his release against Frank's shirt, trying to clean Frank up a bit. To his surprise, Frank held his hand and restricted him. It was time for Frank to get his plan on a roll. "Don't take it off," Frank murmured, closing his eyes. Gerard chuckled.

"It's all over your hair," he said, nuzzling Frank's nose.

"I wish it was all over me, period," Frank seductively replied, moving his head so that their cheeks brushed. Gerard shivered, still thinking by means of his penis. He was no longer operating from up there, but from down there. And Frank honestly looked like a very, very appealing sex toy right then.

"What are you saying, Frank?" Gerard questioned. Although, he was already heading down and removing Frank's pants.

"Fuck me," Frank said, rolling his eyes as he felt Gerard's fingers brush by his penis. Gerard 'accidentally' brushed by again. "Oh god Gerard, fuck me."

"Patience," Gerard purred, pulling Frank's pants down slowly. Frank moaned in frustration.

"I want it now," Frank interrupted, yanking the rest of his clothes off. "T-touch me," he breathed, eyes closed. He shivered as he finally felt Gerard's hands on his chest, arching his head back. His heart was pounding loudly against his chest as Gerard gripped him by the waist. He gave a quiet whine in response.

"This has got to be my third best fantasy," Gerard murmured to himself as he watched the reactions play out on Frank's face. Frank threw his shirt and pants further away, holding on to Gerard for dear life. With the force he latched himself onto Gerard, Gerard landed on his back and Frank straddled himself on top.

"And what, might I ask, was your first?" Frank questioned, pinning Gerard to the floor as he wrapped his legs around Gerard's body. He began kissing Gerard's neck again, rubbing himself against Gerard in the process. He was going to have to top the last two fantasies of Gerard's.

"The first time we made love," Gerard replied, moving his hips against Frank's own. "You were so beautiful," he murmured, smiling.

"Second?" Frank demanded, disregarding the comment as he closed his eyes. That was nice of Gerard and all, but Frank was on a mission here. A moan escaped his lips as he continued to grind Gerard, rubbing their genitals against each other. Gerard gave a sexy smirk after emitting a groan himself, causing Frank to smirk as well. Gerard should be hard and ready to go in no time.

"That amazing blow job you just gave me," Gerard finally responded, hands on Frank's waist. He thrust his hips up for another grind against Frank before Frank threw his head back, squealing. "…Which I'm still high off of," he continued, hardening immediately.

"Glad you…feel that way, babe," Frank groaned, digging his nails into Gerard's back as he gasped.

"I'm counting on this next fantasy to keep me high, though," Gerard sexily murmured, staring at Frank's lust-fucked-and-frenzied eyes.

"Wh-why's that?" Frank asked, struggling to find words. He gave a surprised gasp as he felt Gerard overpower him and pin him to the ground. Instantly, Frank wrapped his legs around him and shamelessly began rub on him. "Oh fuck." Frank panted, arms wrapped around Gerard. He lifted his head to accommodate for his position and sucked on Gerard's neck, leaving hickies with every nip and nibble.

"'Oh fuck' is right," Gerard chuckled, before yanking Frank's head back in response. Frank gave an eager squeal, arching his back and getting rug-burn in the process. Gerard shoved Frank back on the ground, forcefully bringing Frank's lips to his own. He kissed his horny boyfriend, forcefully pressing their lips together. Of course, Frank took it a step further and demanded entry into Gerard's mouth. Gerard didn't deny him. If Frank wanted them to have this kind of sex, he was going to get it. Gerard was going to fuck him until he bled, if pushed far enough. He knew what he was (unfortunately) capable of.

Upon feeling Frank's tongue in his mouth, Gerard growled and pinned Frank's legs against the ground. Frank gave a cry of surprise and Gerard smirked, the sadist side of him showing as he won the tongue battle. Their tongues lashed against each other hungrily, and Gerard caused Frank to moan out as he bit his tongue. Frank still tasted a bit funny to Gerard, but the taste was wearing off with every second. All it did was remind Gerard what Frank had just done, and how horrible it must've tasted to him. Yet he'd done it, hadn't he?

Gerard's hands found their way entangled in Frank's hair and he yanked the pretty boy's head back, biting Frank's lip and lip-ring as he pulled his tongue out if Frank's mouth. Frank gave a moan, holding Gerard's head carefully in his hands; Gerard pulled away, removing Frank's hands from his own and pinning them against the floor. He hoped Frank hadn't been bluffing when he said he enjoyed the pain, because he intended on giving it to him like that.

"You're mine, Frankie," Gerard growled, moving his lips against Frank's collarbone. Gerard bit him harshly, leaving a mark on Frank's skin. Frank immediately responded with a cry and Gerard bit him again. "Mine," Gerard seductively repeated, returning the movements Frank made with his own hips. Frank could feel Gerard's nails digging on his sides, and he visibly shuddered at the impact. Gerard let his finger and hands wander around Frank's body, pinching and clawing at the young man's body. Frank arched his back, thrusting his hips forward as he tried to relish the feeling.

"Ugh, Gerard," Frank gasped, his legs wrapping themselves around Gerard's waist. "Baby…"

"You remember who you belong to now?" Gerard cruelly teased him, and Frank moaned as he felt his boyfriend widen his legs.

"F-fuck," he stuttered, rolling his eyes back. "G-Gee…it f-feels s-s-so good—"

"Patience, Frankie," Gerard warned him, crawling on top and kissing Frank's forehead. "This is my show. You said so yourself," Gerard continued, moving on to Frank's earlobes and nibbling them. "And we both agreed…I'm fucking you, hun. Hush."

Gerard honestly didn't give a fuck what Frank wanted to say. It was always about Frank: what he wanted, what he needed. Well tonight, this moment, was his and Gerard was going to use it to the best of his potential. Frank had been right; he was angry. He was angry at their position, he was angry Mikey had died, he was angry they had to turn themselves in, he was angry that Pete would get to see Frank more than he would, he was angry that he'd be behind bars, he was angry that no one would ever believe his innocence, and he was angry that Frank would probably find a new lover while he was sent off to jail. He was angry he ever fell for Frank. In fact, he was angry he ever went back to the Iero household for his stupid jacket. Sure, he'd gone to retrieve his jacket. But part of him went so he could just see Frank again, because he liked him.

That's what he got for liking Frank, and he knew that. He loved him now, too. On other days, he could just push the thoughts to the back of his mind, but it would all be over in four days. Without a doubt, there was so much anger and frustration within him that he needed to let out. And no matter how badly he wanted to blame Frank and beat him up for the situation they were now facing, he would want to make sure that Frank experienced pleasure in the long run.

Thank god for Frank's masochism.

"Fuck m-me, Gerard," Frank moaned, kissing Gerard's face and interrupting Gerard's thought process. He couldn't take it anymore. He didn't want Gerard planting him with kisses and hickies. He wanted the shit fucked out of him. Well, he wouldn't mind the hickies if Gerard managed to leave bite marks, or if Gerard dug his nails into him while they were kissing…

"Shut up, Frank," Gerard snapped, yanking Frank's head back. Frank gave a surprised gasp, but obliged. He hoped that Gerard would continue things this way. It was such a turn on for him. "Take off your fucking undies," Gerard demanded, continuing. Frank eagerly complied, touching himself after the task was done. Gerard chuckled, slapping Frank's hands away.

"Horny, are we?" he taunted him, restricting that hand of Frank's.

"Shut it and fuck me," Frank demanded, glaring.

Frank could tell from the look in Gerard's eyes that he hadn't expected Frank to reply like that. Gerard was arguing with himself whether or not he should do something to him, Frank noticed. This was the part of Gerard that Frank had to erase if he wanted the two of them to enjoy themselves to the fullest extent.

An idea popped into his head that he knew would doom him, and Frank took it and ran with it. This was all about Gerard releasing his frustration, was it not? Which meant everything and anything wasn't off limits. It was all fair game. And besides, who was to say Gerard ever did come to cope with what he was about to bring up? He was sure there was still a part of Gerard that resented his parents. They had claimed he wasn't good for anything, dubbing Mikey as the 'perfect' child. Licking his lips, Frank muttered the very same words his father had told him, ever since the day he was born, for the both of them to hear.

"Do something right for once in your life…It's not that hard." Frank raised a brow as shock adorned Gerard's face, almost as if saying Yeah, I just said it. What are you gonna do about it? Gerard shouldn't have been there in shock—he should have been beating him up by now. "Can you manage, you fucking cunt?" Frank added smugly, and like that Gerard broke. Gerard immediately slapped Frank, causing him to smirk and bite his lower lip after the physical release on Frank.

Fuck, that felt good.

"Since day one, it has only been about you," Gerard started, returning Frank's glare. His voice lowered, now low and threatening. He gripped Frank by the roots of his hair, violently snapping his head around. "'Frank wants this, Frank wants that'…And every time, I stayed with you and did what you wanted. I stayed with you!" Gerard yelled, striking Frank with every syllable and emphasis. Frank whimpered, grinding against Gerard as he felt Gerard continually beat him. The sadistic smirk never left Gerard's face.

"I get a job, and manage to lose it because of the same fucking person," Gerard went on, digging his nails into Frank's sides. Frank's eyes burned, soon filled with tears as he continued to cry out. "I get fired and I take you from your pathetic-ass home and then Mikey dies! He didn't even like the idea of me taking you in the beginning, but I told him to shut up because I thought you were fucking worth it. But I guess I'm not worth it for anyone, am I? Not for my fucking parents, not for your stupid parents, and certainly not for your pretty little face, am I?" There was no way Gerard was expecting an answer, but Frank felt the need to tell Gerard that wasn't true, and that he did matter to him, at least. But Gerard beat him to it, his anger and sadism in full swing now. He strangled the vulnerable boy beneath him and continued grinding against him. Frank choked on his sweet gasps, hands encircling Gerard's own. Gerard bit them and Frank pulled back in shock.

"Get off!" Gerard demanded, slapping Frank. Frank moaned, removing his hands from anywhere on Gerard. He trembled as Gerard's nails dug into his neck, marking him. The act brought tears to his eyes, but he couldn't stop groaning from pleasure. "Open your fucking legs, you slut!" Gerard demanded, oblivious to the series of cuts he just imbedded in Frank's skin. "I'll show you who the fucking cunt is…"

Frank whimpered, his body shaking as he did as he was told. He gave another whimper as he felt Gerard bare his nails into his skin once more. Gerard harshly pushed Frank's legs back as Frank gasped in response. And it wasn't long before he felt a stinging sensation on his ass, making him cry out. Gerard gave a sinister chuckle, bringing his hands against Frank's lower back and urging Frank to lift his hips so he flaunted his ass in an appealing matter before Gerard.

"I've been so good to you," Gerard continued to murmur, stroking Frank's ass after he hit him. "Always. But tonight, I could care less." Frank gasped as he felt Gerard's fingers make way to his crotch, and he bit back a moan as Gerard continued stroking. "Tonight, I'm gonna fuck you, Frankie. Fuck you like I've always fantasized about doing…" Frank's breath hitched in his throat as he heard Gerard utter those words out loud.

Gerard's hands left Frank's crotch area after he made sure Frank's cock had fully inflated, and he placed his hands firmly against Frank's hips. Frank gave a moan as he felt Gerard bite down on a good amount of his flesh near his inner hips, and Gerard hit him for that again. If anything, it made Frank moan louder as he relished the stinging sensation Gerard's impact left on his body.

"Fucking whore," Gerard muttered, letting Frank's deepest and darkest fantasy play out in front of him. He panted as soon as Gerard released his hold on his throat to attend to his ass. Gerard was playing with him, pulling his ass cheeks apart as he pushed Frank's legs back with a firm hold on Frank's inner thighs. Gerard roughly thrust into Frank without any preparation or warning of any kind, and Frank shrieked.

"Ah-ah!" Frank hissed. "O-oh g-god!"

"Shut it, love," Gerard demanded, hushing Frank's pants. He began digging and grinding into Frank, leaving Frank to give in to his urges and widen his legs as he made his ass more accessible. His eyes were extremely cross-eyed as he tried to contain his whimpers, his taut ass stretching tremendously.

"Who do you belong to?" Frank heard Gerard demand as he dug himself deep within him. Frank's legs encouraged the act as they widened and tried to help Gerard ease into him, the walls of his cheeks trying to desperately fill Gerard's mold. Frank continued panting and, impatiently, Gerard repeated, "Who fucking owns you?" as he clawed his nails into Frank's back.

"You," Frank breathed, whining afterwards. He felt so controlled, but he couldn't ask for anything better. Gerard was going to fuck his brains out if he pushed the right buttons. And so far, telling Gerard what to do was what pissed him off the most. "Fuck me hard," Frank demanded, full of lust as he shut his eyes. "Make sure I never forget."

Gerard closed his eyes as he felt the sadist in him take over while he pushed himself deeper into Frank, who moaned like a whore as he widened his legs. "You won't," Gerard promised him, tracing the curve of Frank's cheek as the young man closed his eyes. "I'm gonna leave you leaking, Frank. Do you hear that? Do you fucking hear that?"

"Oh, fuck," Frank breathed, eyes crossing over. The anticipation for such an activity was driving him crazy, and he wanted it now. He opened his mouth with another demand. "Screw me already."

Angrily, Gerard shoved himself again into Frank after pulling out a little bit, causing the younger man to convulse. "Fucking bitch," Gerard snapped, slapping Frank once more. Frank's eyes rolled to the back of his head as Gerard did so. He bit his lower lip, arching his back as Gerard thrust into him again.

"Oh! Ugh!" Frank loudly panted, digging his nails into Gerard's skin. Gerard replied by twisting Frank's neck, choking him once more as he began to fuck Frank raw. Frank's whimpers and moans echoed through Gerard's ears as the movements got harsher and brasher. Gerard was wildly fucking him, ensuring that Frank's head banged against the wall with every thrust and pummel. And all that would come out Frank's mouth were cries of ecstasy. Gerard could feel the swelling of Frank's walls, but he ignored it. He wasn't done with his fuck and, until then, nothing else mattered besides making Frank scream.

"Agh!" Frank screeched, feeling Gerard dig far and hard enough to draw blood. He could feel Gerard's hands slip against the blood on his body, the metallic scent reaching his nostrils. He could feel Gerard's nails opening another wound on his body and he cried out.

"Scream for me," Gerard growled, feeling Frank squirm beneath him. "I said scream!" Gerard repeated, when he heard no sound from Frank's throat. It didn't matter to him that he was the one preventing Frank from doing such a thing; that was Frank's problem. If he wanted Frank to scream, he was going to get Frank to scream.

Frank grunted, eyes crossed as Gerard continued to suffocate him. He gave way to screaming, though, when Gerard widened his legs the furthest they could go and deepened the intensity of the fuck.

"G-Gerard!" Frank screeched. "Oh fuck! Fuck!"

"You belong to me, Frankie," Gerard drawled, holding Frank's legs apart so they wouldn't go and bend back. Frank panted as Gerard's brutish attacks quickened and hardened, his head bashing against the wall repeatedly. He'd never thought Gerard would actually succumb to the sadist in him. Hell, he never thought Gerard was this much of a sadist. It was alluring, indeed. He was in heaven now with Gerard's lust-fuck driving all prior thoughts away. As of this moment, the only thing Gerard wanted to do was fuck, and all Frank wanted to do was to be fucked. He'd dreamt of something like this for ages, now.

"Oh, babe!" Frank cried, his voice raspy due to the choking hold Gerard had on him for a while. "Oh—"

Gerard continued the brutish attack, linking their tongues together in a heated reunion. They lustfully lashed against the other, Frank fighting for some dominance in the whole situation, but losing pitifully. Gerard dominated in every situation, leaving Frank to lie back there and receive action after brutish action. The harsh fuck, scar marking, and sadist personality of Gerard was such a turn-on; when Gerard slammed into Frank's prostate, it went without saying Frank screamed once more, completely unrestrained (if he hadn't been before).

"Fuck me there again!" He shrieked, shamelessly and devilishly panting, despite the effort it took due to Gerard's strong hold around his neck. Gerard kept the blows coming, hearing Frank scream his lungs and throat out every time his head hit the wall. For Frank, anything he could possibly do to make the task for Gerard to fuck his brains out easier would be done.

"Oh, fuck! Fuck, Gerard! AGAIN!" he rasped, eyes cross-eyed and open now. The sight of his fuck-toy added to Gerard's craze and he obliged Frank's request; his focus not on the fact that Frank was demanding things, but on the task of fucking Frank until Gerard was sure Frank was going to fucking leak after all was said and done. He'd promised him that, hadn't he? And how could he think of doing anything else when he saw Frank trembling beneath him in sheer ecstasy, crying out in pleasure?

"Agh!" Frank screamed as his prostate took another beating. Gerard grunted, channeling his energies into fulfilling his task. Frank was leaking a bit now…but the new question was whether or not Gerard wanted to stop. Forcefully, Gerard used the slickness of his thrusts and Frank's leakage to penetrate deeper within Frank, causing Frank to wrap his legs around Gerard. Gerard's hands finally left Frank's throat, finding it more helpful to glue themselves to Frank's hips to ensure his accuracy.

Frank and his prostate didn't mind that one bit. "Oh, Gerard! Ugh!"

Frank was aware that he was a lot more verbal than he had been initially, but there was not enough time for him to play shy. Gerard was his boyfriend, and if he wanted to have his boyfriend's dick rammed up his ass, then he was going to have it. And if that made him moan like the bitch he was, then people were just going to have to get used to it. Besides, it felt too fucking good for him to keep quiet about.

"Fuck!" Frank screamed as Gerard thrust harshly into him again. "Deeper! Deeper," he hissed, clawing Gerard before his head hit the wall again.

Gerard obliged, trying to make Frank come before he did. Frank kept screaming, his mouth forever open and emitting cries of delirium. His eyes matched the out-of body experience, half-lidded with lust and sexual desire for the man fucking him raw. He could feel liquids in his ass, expediting the fuck and pummel into his prostate. It was arousing, and at this point he didn't care if he was hurt. It felt fucking amazing.

"H-hit me," Frank seductively moaned, before giving another shriek. Gerard restricted Frank's hands to keep Frank from marking him again as he thrust into him once more. Frank thrust his own hips forward as well, his eagerness showing. He was going to come soon, and then this awesome fuck would be over. He was partly annoyed at himself for it, too.

Gerard didn't hit him, preoccupied with bashing Frank's prostate and banging his head against the wall as he marked him. It didn't register with him that Frank had given him an order until he heard Frank repeat himself.

"Fucking…hurry up!" Frank demanded, arching his back as a jolt of pleasure ran through him. Gerard growled, snapping Frank's head back as he roughly slapped him. Frank gave a blissful shudder as he felt Gerard's hands around his throat once more.

"Don't tell…me what…to do," Gerard emphasized as he pummeled into Frank, harshly beating him as well. "Fucking whore," he growled, fucking him brutishly.

Gerard was about to come. His body couldn't take it anymore. To hear and see Frank wasn't helping him hold off, either. Frank's shameless masochism was arousing, and there was no way the sadist in him could afford to hold out and stay hidden. Forcing his nails clawed and buried into Frank's hips, Gerard gave a final grunt as he entered Frank for the last time, grinding and essentially screwing himself securely into Frank's being. Frank immediately came, causing Gerard to come as well.

"Ugh!" Frank shrieked. "Yes! Oh, Gerard!"

"F-Frankie! Oh!" Gerard stuttered, gasping as he released a huge load deep within Frank. He could feel Frank twitch as the liquids filled him, using the liquids to better help him come down from his high. Frank continued moaning, still half delusional from the experience.

Gerard slid in and out, hearing Frank's whimpers at the wet slick of their contact. After finally pulling out, Gerard rested beside Frank, his back against the floor as well. Both their chests rose and fell at different rhythms, both catching their breath from the rambunctious activity.

As Gerard's senses came back, he gave a smirk; he did leave Frank leaking indeed, just like he'd said he would. And not only was the whole experience amazing, but it was also needed. It was liberating to channel all his energies from the anger and use it to fuck Frank's brains out. He felt so much better now, despite the few scratches on his back.

Speaking of scratches, if he remembered correctly, he scratched Frank a bit, too…

Gerard turned his head to see how well his partner was fairing, and he couldn't believe his eyes. Part of him wanted to believe that he hadn't done that, but there was no way it could have been anyone else. He had just had sex with him, and he was pretty sure those marks hadn't been bleeding before. He'd bitten Frank, scratched him, clawed at him, hit him, beaten him, strangled him, and fucked him pretty harshly. Aside from the sweat and few hickie marks, Frank looked like he had been really hurt; he was covered in purple and red bruises that Gerard was sure would turn an ugly blackish color. And there were numerous cuts all over Frank's body that Gerard was sure would forever remain, since many of them had probably already existed. Not to mention Frank's lips were swollen, as well as his cheeks. Gerard had hit and slapped him many times throughout the period, and it wasn't until he brushed away a lock of Frank's hair that he remembered that he had come all over his face earlier.

As he inched forward, inspecting Frank's body, Gerard tore up. He'd been too lax to his sadism impulses, and Frank had paid the ultimate price for that. Gerard should have remembered who he was fucking; Frank was his lover, not Pete. When it came to Pete, it was his goal to inflict pain on the fucker while they 'worked.' He didn't care what happened to Pete, so if the fucker looked in any way, shape, or form the way Frank did right now, he wouldn't give a rat's ass. But this was his Frank he was talking about. He'd done this to his innocent, sweet, adorable, and compassionate Frankie. How could he hurt him this way…this badly?

"Oh, my…oh god," Gerard murmured, sitting up. "Frankie…"

Frank didn't seem to detect the worry in Gerard's voice as he brought their lips together, heatedly kissing his boyfriend. Gerard remained beside him, propping himself on his elbow to make sure he wouldn't crush the little man. He'd already done enough damage. He didn't want to add 'crushing Frank to death' on the list. But Frank kept pulling him down, hands cradling Gerard's cheek. Frank was already determined that he was going to kiss Gerard. If Gerard wasn't coming down Frank would go up. He even raised a leg to help trap Gerard within his grasp as they ate each other's faces off, and Frank felt a strong sting course through his veins. He gave a moan (still coming off his high) as he felt Gerard pull back. He pulled back as well, a smirk playing on his lips.

But the smirk disappeared as soon as he saw the tears in Gerard's eyes.


	51. Don't Think Too Much

**Don't Think Too Much **

"I'm tired, babe," Frank murmured against Gerard's chest, the steady rise and fall lulling him to sleep. He had been drained after the sex they had, and Gerard seemed out of it as well. Frank let his eyelids drop as he gripped Gerard, making him his live teddy bear. He would have held Gerard tighter and kissed his nose, but truth be told his body hurt a whole lot. It had gone from feeling numb to hurting a bit more with each passing hour. The most he could manage by this point was a small snuggling movement. He didn't want to say anything about his current position, though. Gerard seemed pretty worried after the whole ordeal, and really wanted to be on good terms with Gerard before they had to hand each other in.

Gerard could feel the stiffness in Frank's movements and he rose on his elbows. "Y-you okay?" he asked, concerned.

That was all he had asked since Frank took his shower and cleaned himself. Gerard had stayed away, hiding himself in shame. In fact, as soon as Frank got up to inspect himself, Gerard ran to the bathroom and locked it as he cried and cleaned himself. And after, he avoided looking Frank in the eyes. Frank took that as the cue to clean himself as well, determined to get Gerard to see things on his level. Frank could detect that Gerard felt badly for what he did, but in his eyes Gerard had done nothing wrong.

Frank yawned as he held on to Gerard—giving a sleepy 'Um-hm' as a response as he tried to kill the conversation before it even started. He nuzzled his cheek against Gerard's chest as he smiled to himself, and for Gerard. Everything his boyfriend had done to him felt so fucking right. Of course Frank was fine. Maybe he didn't look fine, but deep down inside, he was.

He had to admit, though, that the damage was a bit extensive. After Gerard looked at Frank the way he did after they fucked, Frank had to go and look at the damage himself. He looked like he had been abused or raped, even. His body was covered in bruises that were blue and purple, littered with nail embeddings and blood. Not only that, but his lip was busted, back was rug-burned, and hair sticky with cum. And, as if to make the moment permanent, Frank's ass was leaking. It was the first time anything like that had ever happened to him, Frank had to admit. And he took pride in that.

The clean up was pretty disgusting, but in the end things were okay. The bruises were turning blue and black instead. And the blood had been washed away—at least from places he could wash it away. His hair was washed, and lip treated. And he didn't smell and taste like sex anymore, either. As for everything else, they would just have to heal on their own. He wasn't going to wear shorts anymore, either. There was no need to, with the weather getting colder and colder everyday. Sure, the marks on him forced him to wear long-sleeves, but it was something someone like him needed to do, especially with his poor immune system. There was nothing bad at all about his current situation and with how Gerard handled himself.

Frank remained quiet as he gave way to slumber, his mind already in the process of creating the perfect dream, starring the perfect man. But part of his inner self spoke out against that, demanding he speak to Gerard again. For the first time since their intimate moment, he'd spoken to him. He should have said something back, but what?

"You?" Frank eventually asked, the sleepiness dripping from his voice.

Gerard wasn't even sure he heard Frank speak, so he shifted his position to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Like he suspected, Frank's eyes were closed and he seemed to be enjoying the fruits of slumber. Frank looked so innocent and serene as he rested his head on Gerard's chest. Gerard even forgot about what they did a few hours ago. But he was reminded as his eyes traveled down to Frank's swollen lip and reddened cheeks. The blood was gone now, but Gerard could still imagine it there, along with the sticky cum-hair Frank had also sported.

Just thinking about their experience made Gerard's eyes travel down the path and onto Frank's abused arms, littered with purple and blue welts. And there were even some scars here. Most of them were crescent marked, except for the few weird ones that were just deep scratches. Either way, they drew blood from Frank. It was kind of scary to look at Frank and see the arms that were once flawless now littered with purple, blue, and black bruises. What's worse was that he put them there.

"Gee?" he heard from under his chin. He looked down to see Frank sleepily gazing at him, and he nodded in response to Frank. "You okay?" Frank asked. Gerard gave a small shrug in response, rubbing Frank's head. That was the only place he knew he could touch that he hadn't hurt too much. He'd banged his head against the wall, but there was no blood. Frank looked at him for a while longer before he gave in and nodded, closing his eyes.

Gerard continued rubbing Frank (gently), and acted like he had to force himself to do after he had seen the marks he'd left on his baby. He didn't want to touch Frank after that last kiss, scared that Frank would literally fall apart into millions of pieces. Frank hadn't even noticed then, oblivious to the harm; that just made things worse for Gerard.

"Gee?" Frank asked again, trying to bring Gerard back. He rose from his comfortable position and looked into Gerard's eyes. "Baby?"

Frank had said he enjoyed pain, Gerard had to remind himself. He liked it, he liked it…

"You know that I…love you," Gerard finally said, giving up at the attempt to convince himself as he looked at a dazed Frank. "Right?" he hesitantly added.

"I know," Frank cautiously stated, slowly sitting up. He could sense a deep conversation coming up. He wasn't going to sleep any time soon.

"And that I would never try to purposely…hurt you." Gerard stopped, almost in fear of continuing the statement. Frank looked at him in confusion before giving him a sly look.

"Not unless I want you to," Frank included as he smirked, recalling their latest activity. His smirk caused him to wince at the movement of his lip and Gerard caught that. Gerard froze as worry adorned his features. Frank shrugged it off.

"But, yeah," Frank continued, as if there was no problem. "I know you'd never hurt me."

"H-how can you say that?" Gerard demanded to know. "How c-can you put so much faith in me?"

"Because I trust you," Frank replied, tracing things on Gerard's bare and spotless tummy.

"W-why?"

"I love you," Frank replied, shrugging. "And I know you've got a great heart. You wouldn't hurt me. And if you did hurt me, I'm pretty sure I would have deserved it."

"Take a good look in the fucking mirror, Frankie," Gerard retorted. "I don't think I've kept my end of the bargain."

"Oh, but I think you have," Frank said, smirking. He still didn't detect the worry from Gerard's voice—or, he at least still decided to ignore it, using comedy to get his message across. "You love me, right?" Frank asked him, and Gerard nodded. "And you didn't hurt me—not in that way," he quickly explained, now rubbing Gerard's lower stomach.

"So what did I do," Gerard demanded to know, "if you don't call this hurt and pain?"

"I call it pleasure," Frank stated, kissing Gerard's chest. He licked his lips to make sure that they wouldn't crack and he could still taste the metallic tang on his tongue…or was that from his lip ring?

"These right here," Frank continued, motioning to some of his most gruesome bruises, "sent me to Heaven."

"If by 'sent to heaven' you mean as in death occurring first, then yeah," Gerard replied, motioning to those same darkened marks on Frank's skin. "I could see how." Frank chuckled at Gerard's comment, shaking his head.

"No, I think I meant 'sent to heaven' in the sense of, 'Oh fuck, do that again!'" Frank said, eyes closed and smirking. He playfully dug his fingers into Gerard's sides in a claw-like manner, repeating, "Oh baby!" for emphasis. He giggled immediately as he nestled back into Gerard's hold, yawning.

Fuck, he was tired.

"I…I don't see the point of having that much pain," Gerard finally said, trying to shrug off Frank's little performance. "I mean…doesn't it hurt? Shouldn't it hurt?"

"Of course it does," Frank replied, chuckling. "It hurts like hell."

"Then why let me—''

"I like it, Gerard," Frank muttered, a sleepy smile on his face. "IlikeitIlikeitIlikeit."

"But I could have killed you!"

"I don't think you beating my arms will kill me," Frank said, slowly shaking his head.

"Then what about the choking, then?" Gerard asked, sitting up and forcing Frank to stay awake.

"The choking?" he asked, his head spinning a bit.

Woah, he really needed to sleep.

"The choking," Gerard verified, nodding. "Look at your poor neck." Frank didn't need to look at his neck to know the damage done. He could feel it. "And all the times your head banged against the wall, too. Oh, Frankie…"

"Gerard, you're taking the fun out of everything," Frank complained, his eyes closing. He rested his head back on Gerard's chest as Gerard continued to freak out.

"I'm just a bit scared. It looks like I've been abusing you or something," Gerard finally muttered, sadly looking Frank over.

"Don't even worry about that," Frank assured him. "I'm not gonna let you get caught because of this. Besides, I'm an adult now. If I like having sex this way, then fuck it—I'm gonna get fucked this way."

"But—"

"They can comment on how abused I look," Frank continued drowsily. "But the fact of the matter is, that if they use the machines they have—those expensive machines—then they will find out…how fresh they are…"

Frank gave a sigh after he was sure he got Gerard to quiet down, and he continued aloud with his thoughts. "You know…now that I think about it, they probably have…shit there they can use, to…to figure out…how many times I've been fucked."

"Don't call it that, Frank," Gerard reprimanded him.

"You know…I like when you do that," Frank said, continuing to babble.

"Do what?" Gerard asked, confused. Frank chuckled, licking his ring.

"When you get mad, Gee," he said, eyes closed and smirk planted on his face. "It's…such a fucking turn-on…"

"You're tired, Frank," Gerard insisted, stroking Frank's hair. "You should…go to sleep, babe."

"But what about…you?" Frank asked, snuggling into Gerard's chest.

"It doesn't matter right now—"

"Yeah…it does."

"Frank…"

"No," Frank replied, defiantly. His eyes were still closed and he was still resting in Gerard's embrace, but he began poking Gerard in his stomach, trying to get his attention. "You need to sleep. You need to forget about what happened and sleep."

A few minutes passed with silence, and Gerard was kind of hoping Frank fell for his trick and fell asleep, not knowing that Frank was waiting for Gerard to do the same. After a good ten minutes, Frank rose from his comfortable position once more and faced Gerard.

"If you don't close your fucking eyes and sleep, I'm gonna fucking—"

"I'm sorry I can't get over the fact that I did that!" Gerard yelled at him. Frank hit his forehead, rolling his eyes.

"Look," he finally said. "Did you not enjoy it?" he asked, in all seriousness. "I thought this was going to become your third-best fantasy…"

"It was. It…is," Gerard admitted. "That's what scares me," he admitted. "I enjoyed it so fucking much, Frank."

"I did, too," Frank said, hoping that things would change. "It was amazing."

"But I find it wrong how I get high from beating you up," Gerard bluntly put it. "I mean…when I did that…even when I did that with Pete, I was never happy. It was more of a—"

"I hated getting hit when I was with Pete," Frank interrupted, rubbing Gerard's shoulder. "Had it been Pete doing this today instead of you, he wouldn't have been able to do what you did. I wouldn't have been moaning the way I was, Gee. He's fucked us up. I shouldn't be getting high from having you slap me and bite me, strangle me…but I do. And you get high doing those things to me. Don't…don't think about it, or you'll drive yourself crazy. You'll make me drive myself crazy. Don't…don't question," he said, recalling what he learned the first time he slept with Gerard. "Don't question your actions. Just…do them."

"Do it?" Gerard warily asked, gently wrapping his arm around Frank. Frank leaned in to his touch, eyeing Gerard for the 'okay.' It seemed like Gerard was doing the same, and Frank nodded as Gerard's eyes lowered. It didn't matter right now that Gerard was cradling his sore cheek. He wanted Gerard to kiss him.

"Do it," Frank murmured, and he groaned as he felt Gerard's lips on his own. To his delight, Gerard shoved his tongue in his mouth and refused to leave, tasting every inch of his mouth. There was a nice, clean feeling to this kiss, and Frank liked it a lot. Gerard held Frank from the back of his head and massaged Frank's tongue with his own. Gerard gave a lustful moan as he laid Frank against the bed. Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard and pulled him closer, urging him to shove his tongue deeper. Frank moaned, kissing Gerard back with just as much fervor and passion. It wasn't long, though, until he pulled back and giggled.

"I think we need to have 'the talk' tomorrow," he said, biting his swollen lip.

"What talk?" Gerard questioned, kissing Frank's cheeks.

"You know…the talk," Frank repeated. "Sex talk."

"Oh really?"

"Yup." Frank's eyes bore into Gerard's as he continued. "We haven't talked about sex with each other at all, I've realized. I want you to be comfortable, babe. And if we must have a sex talk, we shall have the sex talk!"

"You sound like my dad," Gerard complained, making a face.

"I could be 'yo daddy,'" Frank joked, winking. Gerard chuckled and nuzzled his nose with Frank's. Frank giggled, hands in Gerard's hair as he pulled him back down.

"I love you, Frank," Gerard moaned into the kiss. "I love you so much."

"I love you, Gee," Frank whispered, smiling. He could tell Gerard was feeling a whole lot better now and he couldn't help but feel better as well. He gave another giggle and Gerard started sucking on Frank's bruised lip instead, making him shudder. He closed his eyes as they became crossed eyed and lightly pushed Gerard back. He stared at Gerard's flushed face and bit his lip.

"What?" Gerard asked worriedly. "Did I…?"

"I'm just taking a good look," Frank quietly admitted, his drowsiness gone. Truth be told, the kissing woke him up a bit. Honestly, it woke him up in a lot of ways. This was most-probably the last kiss he would share with Gerard. Tomorrow would be three days until the funeral, last day at the motel, the last of their quiet and intimate moments…

Tears welled in Frank's eyes at the thought. It was going to be over, and soon. All they had was going to become a memory. Gerard would not longer be with him, and he'd be on his own…he'd grown dependent on Gerard, and he couldn't let him go. Honestly, he had to push the fact that Gerard was handing himself in toward the back of his mind. How else could he go on, knowing that every second spent together was diminishing their overall future?

"So," Frank quietly started. "You okay, Gerard?"

"I am now," Gerard said, smiling. "Thank you, baby."

"For what?"

"Everything," Gerard said. "You are just…you're just so fucking amazing. I don't even know how I was able to get someone like you to notice me."

"I don't know what I did to make someone like you stick with me," Frank mumbled back.

"I'm happy Frank."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Gerard sighed. "I'm happy the way things worked out."

"With you going to jail?"

"With us meeting each other," Gerard said, ignoring Frank's comment. "Frank, you gotta know that there are good sides to things, and bad sides to things. Like Skittles, hun. You love Skittles, but if you eat too many, you'll feel sick. Same thing applies here. I might be going to jail, but I would have never been able to know you like I do now. Me going back to your mother is bad because I get arrested, and we don't see each other anymore. But it's good because I get to say goodbye to Mikey, and you get to move on with your life. Think about it this way; you get to visit me in jail."

"It's not the same!" Frank complained, his eyes crying a river. He didn't sob, though, determined to be coherent during these critical moments. "I don't want you in jail."

"I don't care if I'm in jail," Gerard retaliated. "So don't worry about me, if that's the case."

"I can't not worry about you," Frank said. "You're mine, Gee. And I'm a spoiled rich kid. I don't want you going there."

"You keep saying you're a spoiled rich kid, Frank," Gerard said. "But in all honesty, I've seen worse."

"Gerard—"

"Relax, Frank," Gerard pleaded. "You…you were so happy a few seconds ago." Frank refused to speak, shaking his head at Gerard's words. He did need to relax, but he couldn't stop the tears from falling.

"Three days," Frank finally murmured, stating the obvious as he continued to gaze at Gerard, whose head was in his hands. Gerard hugged him, but that didn't stop the tears from falling down Frank's face. If anything, the hug made them fall more.

"I'm gonna miss you too, Frankie," Gerard whispered, his face in the crook of Frank's neck. He kissed his boyfriend's neck softly, wrapping his arms wholly around Frank since their last intimate moment. Frank's little pep talk convinced him that they had done nothing wrong. And it was obvious what Frank, the little sweetheart, was worried about. He'd stayed up, despite how tired he was, trying to convince Gerard it was all right because of the limited time they had.

Frank held on to Gerard, sobbing onto his chest as he clutched his boyfriend's body. Gerard let his fingers run through Frank's hair, massaging his head as his boyfriend cried. He slowly lifted Frank up from against the bed and sat him up. Frank's head remained on Gerard's chest as his sobbing slowly gave way to sniffling. After a long while, Frank ended up staring into space in silence as he thought about their grim future together, sniffling every now and then as Gerard gently (and barely) rubbed his shoulder.

Angrily, Frank's thoughts of hatred consumed him. Fuck his father, fuck Tina, fuck his mother, and fuck Pete. They were all going to get what was coming to them. He'd make sure of it.

* * *

They had been on the road for a while now. Mrs. Iero had barely glanced to her right. She was still a bit upset that she had to bring Pete along. He was worthless to her. But if that's what it took to get her husband off of her back and off of her case, then she was going to do it. Besides, if worst came to worst, she'd ditch Pete. She was serious about that. In fact, she had already searched a couple of gas stations along the way. She was determined to drop Pete off on the second to last stop that she'd be making.

Despite the eyesore seated by her side, she was still very eager about the fact that she would see her son in four days. Well, it was nighttime now, so it'd be fair to say three days. Even better!

A rock song played in the background, the car's radio station positioned at a station that Pete claimed Frank would love. They had already pre-programmed the stations the day before Frank's birthday, expecting him to come home the next day. Hearing the music just made her even angrier. And when she heard Pete hum to the track playing, she lost her fucking cool. She stole a quick glare at Pete before she shut the radio off.

Pete knew there was already hostility before the ride started. What could he have expected? She openly told him that she despised him and blamed him for everything. There wasn't much room for ambiguity there.

"I hate that noise," Mrs. Iero snapped, changing lanes. "I don't even know why it's there."

"Frank loves it," Pete murmured, staring out the window. "They play his favorite songs."

"His favorite songs or your favorite songs?" she demanded. Pete gave a shrug.

"We…we have the same taste in music."

"I'm sure you two do," she retorted.

She kept driving for a moment longer before she gave in to her darker desires and pulled over. Maybe she could do that gas station thing now, minus the gas station.

"W-what's wrong?" Pete asked, looking at the dashboard. Nothing seemed to be wrong with the car, so why was she pulling over? Mrs. Iero took the keys to the car out before she gave Pete her undivided attention, and Pete braced himself for an ugly time.

"Everything is wrong," she snapped at him. "You, sitting here in this car, listening to his music…It should be Frank here."

"Hopefully it will be Frank here," Pete replied, trying to look concerned. Although, it wasn't very hard for him considering that he was actually a bit concerned about Frank. He hadn't heard from the little fucker in a while. Even Gerard stopped answering him. "I didn't expect it to go this far."

"No shit," she snapped at him, rolling her eyes. "Yet everyone's all like, 'Oh, Frank will come back.' Yeah. That's what we thought months ago."

"Frank was kidnapped this month, Mrs. Iero," Pete reminded her, a little nervous. Did she know something that he didn't know she knew? As far as she was supposed to know the kidnapping happened this month, in this week.

"I mean in general, in regards to Frank and Gerard," she said, shaking her head. "I thought…I thought he'd go back to normal then, he'd go back to regular. But…no."

"I—"

"Something must have gone on between the two of you!" she snapped, letting her accusations fly. Pete was alone now. Her husband wasn't around to sweet talk anything; he was going to have to deal with her, now.

"What?"

"Frank changed when he met you," Mrs. Iero went on. "At least he did before Gerard came into the picture."

"What makes you think that?"

"I may not be there for every single thing Frank says, but I'm not blind. I'm still his mother. And if you two are best buddies, why is it that he kept such a huge secret from you? Something like this?" She crossed her arms, waiting for a good answer from Pete. Pete said nothing, looking away at the window.

"And what happened to get you two to fight?" she continued. "How bad was the argument you two had that made him decide that it was worth being abused? What happened, Pete?"

Pete remained silent, thinking of what to say. As soon as an idea came to him, he opened his mouth once more. "Honestly, Mrs. Iero?" he asked, worried. "You won't get mad?"

She crossed her arms. "Just because I'm willing to talk doesn't mean I'll just leave everything as okay."

With that said, Pete cleared his throat. Sure, he was nervous, but he was pretty sure that she would forgive him for the reason he just came up with. After all, a lie closest to the truth is the best lie told.

"Spill it," she demanded. "What happened?"

"Well, Mrs. Iero…I have been friends with your son for a long time," he started.

"Since he was fifteen," she interrupted. "When he was going crazy."

"Yeah. Since then," he muttered. Then, he returned to the normal volume. "Well, Frank has always been a little…clingy." That was something she couldn't argue with. One prime example would be the many times when she came home from business trips, and how he'd always follow her around. Then again, she always shooed him off…and now look where they were.

Before she caught herself agreeing with Pete, she shook her head. "Just go on."

"Well, Frank and I got closer, and…"

"And?" Mrs. Iero asked. She didn't have all day.

"Well," Pete started. "I, uh…I think I may love your son."


	52. The Best Lie Is The One Told Closest

**The Best Lie Is The One Told Closest To The Truth **

Mrs. Iero couldn't believe her ears. Pete Wentz and her son? Together?

She was at a loss for words. She stared at Pete in pure shock, her voice gone. She didn't think Pete was gay, but now that he mentioned it, it was plausible to suggest he was at least bisexual. It did go to explain a lot of his odd characteristics, like the eyeliner he wore (and Frank eventually wore), and the painted nails. She had believed it had been part of fashion these days. The guys Frank and Pete listened to did the same, so she figured it was just a phase they were going through together…as friends. She never expected Frank and Pete were a couple, though. But then what about the whole deal with Tina? Weren't she and Pete a couple already?

Pete remained silent as well, only because that wasn't what he was supposed to say! Not at all. He had a lie already made up about having a mini-fight about getting a baby-sitter when Frank could just hang out with him. And then he was going to say that Frank was all "unreasonable and shit," so they fought and then Frank ran into the hands of Gerard. And then Frank got raped, here they were, and he was sorry.

Not that he possibly loved Frank! Damn it!

He'd had thoughts of the possibility that he might of lov—of that L-word before, like when he first met Sara. But he'd kept it at the back of his mind since then. The most important thing was getting Frank back. What good would be thinking he loved Frank if Frank never came back to him? He could remember thinking that Frank needed him to survive. Well, what if it was the other way around, and he needed Frank in order to remain sane? He did go out and do things (a.k.a. kill Mikey) because of him. Never did he think he'd kill someone in his life. The worst he was out to do (before Mikey) was to trap Frank in his sex game, not go out and kill.

"W-what?" Mrs. Iero finally asked, her eyes wide as she interrupted both her own and Pete's thoughts. "W-what did you j-just say?"

Pete took a small gulp before he repeated his statement, which wasn't (he unfortunately realized) a complete lie this time. "I…I l-l-love F-Frank."

Yeah right, he pitifully tried to convince himself. You love fucking him, maybe.

Her harsh composure faltered completely. "Frank? My Frank?" Pete nodded, waiting for her to explode. "Since…since when?" she continued, her heart beating faster than before.

Pete honestly wasn't prepared for this at all. He was supposed to come up with some small lie, not tell her things he wasn't even sure about! How the hell would he get anything done like that? Emotions are not supposed to get in the way. Nothing gets done when that happens.

Or, maybe anything can get done when that happens. Was that the reason why both he and Gerard had gone to such lengths? In Gerard's case, that would explain the predicament he was in now. Work and pleasure never go together…unless you were in the 'business' Pete had in mind for Frank, but that was another story. And in his own case, he ended up doing things he never would have had he not felt something more for Frank. That's why he killed Mikey, right?

No, you did it to show Gerard who was boss, he reminded himself. Frank wasn't the priority there.

Or was he?

Pete struggled for words to say as Mrs. Iero's eyes bore into him. "We…I, uh—"

"So what happened to make you two fight?" She asked instead, shifting in her seat to face Pete. There was no way she could hurt him now. This was her chance to make amends, her chance to take interest her son's life—even if it included that scoundrel. What if he wasn't that bad after all? "I…this is still a bit of a shocker to me, but you two were pretty close…" she continued, biting her lower lip in uncertainty. Pete didn't catch his thought soon enough before he uttered it aloud. "Frank does that all the time," he nostalgically murmured. Mrs. Iero immediately stopped and glared at him.

"What happened?" she repeated again, crossing her arms. Her frown resembled that of Frank's but Pete caught his thought before he stupidly murmured something else. He had to think of something to respond with. Put on the spot, he forgot about his planned story and frantically tried to think of something to say. Maybe…

"Frank kind of wanted us to…take it a step further than us just being 'close,'" he finally told the missus. The look on Mrs. Iero's face was priceless, and Pete could tell from her look that things would be somewhat in his control. His story was a little believable. But 'a little' wasn't good enough. "But I said no," he continued. He couldn't make himself look the bad guy. There had to be a way of him being the good guy and trying to help Frank out. Although he couldn't think of anyone actually being nice to Frank since he'd been here…

"Frank?" she asked, still in obvious shock. She had to admit her boy did dress in tight clothing and he did look a little trampy at times but, like she mentioned before, she thought it was the style.

"Yeah…so when Gerard came along, our relationship got strained because Gerard was giving him…what I refused to give him," Pete explained, twisting up the true events. This was more like it. Completely believable, since Gerard was the common enemy. "He…he wanted to go further, and I didn't want to do anything until he was of age despite what he was already used to. But Frank…he wanted it and he wanted it now. Or, should I say he wanted it then and there."

"Oh god," Mrs. Iero murmured, shaking her head. How did things get so far as to have her son become a sex addict?

"I…I know," Pete said, shaking his head as the story was set in stone within his mind. With a story like Gerard's own, how can you make any enemies or commit any flaws? Too bad Gerard wasn't here to tell it. "I-I had told him that—because I thought it was the right thing to do, and he was super pissed—''

"Why…why didn't you tell us?" Irene asked in awe. "Why not mention Frank's odd behavior to us?" She stared at Pete, expecting an answer. But as the silence lingered, she figured she already knew the answer. Pete had probably told her husband about it, hadn't he? Fucking asshole always knew things before her!

"You told him, didn't you?" she muttered, head in her hands before Pete could actually answer. Yet another thing that was right in front of her eyes that she didn't see. But that wouldn't make sense, with how much her husband disliked gay people. And Anthony was still 'in love' with Pete, so there was no way he knew about Pete's sexuality…unless Pete told Anthony that Frank was gay and excluded himself! "You told Anthony that Frank was possibly gay and excluded yourself, didn't you?" she asked. No wonder he hated his son recently. "You asshole!"

"No, no way!" Pete exclaimed, still racking his brain for an answer. Oh fuck, this was so bad. Nothing had been prepared for this. Well, things had been prepared, but he had blanked out and ended up nearly telling her the truth. This had never happened to him before. Thank god no one was here, except Mrs. Iero. Maybe he'd be able to pull himself out of this one and she'd like him again. Only what to say? What should he say?

"I'm listening," she said, folding her arms. "If Anthony has nothing to do with it, why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Because Frank…didn't want us to," Pete finally said, somewhat telling the truth—but mostly lying. It was true that someone didn't want to tell the Ieros when they first became intimate. Only, that 'someone' wasn't Frank.

"What?" Irene asked, her mouth open. Frank didn't want to tell them about his relationship? Sure, her son was a bit more on the secretive side, but something as big as this? Was she truly that dead to him?

"Well, he was very…active," Pete tried, forcing himself to blush so he could look uncomfortable or nervous for his little skit. It wasn't that hard to do once he began imagining some of the nights he got Frank wasted.

Oh yes, Frank was very active, indeed.

"Active?" she repeated cautiously.

"Um…sexually active," Pete corrected himself in the end. "And…I didn't know how to tell you and especially Mr. Iero that information. I thought he was joking, but…he wasn't." Tears threatened to stream down Irene's face as what Pete said registered within her mind. "I thought it was something he should tell you and Mr. Iero. I didn't want to overstay my welcome, in that sense."

"I understand," she murmured, shaking her head. Pete remained silent as Mrs. Iero struggled with the best way to handle the information load. It wasn't every day that you heard your son was gay, and a closet sex addict for the past three or more years.

"So…why not tell us and get consent?" Mrs. Iero finally asked, deciding to let her anger at Frank speak for her. "If Frank's so fucking 'horny,' why couldn't he tell us and let us give him the go-ahead?"

Both she and Pete knew that would have never happened, but Pete understood the point she was trying to make. In the end, Frank didn't have to go around doing what he was doing if his parents said it was all right. Things didn't have to be so sneaky that way. If Frank had told them, there was a chance he could have gone out and had all the sex he wanted. Keyword being 'chance,' as Irene would never allow that, and Anthony would kill Frank for his 'preference' in a lover.

"He knew how Mr. Iero felt about homosexuals," Pete said, defending himself with his choice. If things could have been that easy, especially with the way Mr. Iero seemed to adore Pete, Pete would have done so. But things weren't that great between them when it came to sexuality. In fact the only reason, Pete was sure, Mrs. Iero was so 'open-minded' now was because Frank was gone. Or else she would have been just as bad as her husband—possibly even worse. But at least Frank's absence seemed to change her a bit. "Like I said, I suggested he tell you guys before I do anything, to get the go-ahead from you two like you just suggested; because I really didn't want to do anything to harm him, even if he didn't see how. And then, Gerard showed up…and we know the rest from there," he finished, solidifying his point and position.

Pete watched through nervous eyes as Irene sat in the driver's seat, biting her nails. It was keeping her from pulling at her hair and hitting her head. She would not allow Pete to see her like that. She had to look somewhat decent. She could cry at her failures as a mother inside the comforts of her own room and privacy. Plus, she was aware it was something Frank picked up from her as well, and she didn't need Lover Boy over here to mention that to her.

To imagine that the signs were around her at all times just made it that much more embarrassing. And damn him, she had told Anthony not to be so hostile. Look at what Pete and Frank withheld—and for good reason, too. Sadly, she would have done the same. There was no way she could blame Pete for anything now.

Now time for the hard questions; but she had to face the music. "So…Frank was a sex addict when you two first met, or…?"

"He'd just started," Pete truthfully said, thanking his stars for such an easy question. Hopefully the rest of these would be just as easy to answer, and he would be able to get away with stealing Gerard's story. "With the sex, I mean."

"Hm…it kind of figures," she admitted, a tear rolling down her face. She gave a sniffle before she quickly wiped it away. "He was acting funnier than usual during that time…"

"He…I met him because of that," Pete continued with the slight-truth again. Boy, it was easier to lie when it was close to the truth. He just had to make sure he didn't say the whole truth. He'd be fine if he littered his stories with white lies.

"What…what do you mean?" she cautiously asked, her voice rising as she quickly began hyperventilating. Had Pete been lying to her all this time? "I…I thought you said that you waited…you wanted to wait until—"

"And I did!" Pete said, quickly fixing his story. "I met him on the street—"

"Dear god!" she gasped. "Was it that bad? And I never noticed?" Irene's tears were now on freefall, and she didn't bother fixing herself up now. How could she? She had failed so much as a parent. To hear that her child was prostituting at the age of fifteen—since that was how the two met—was nauseating.

"He was…'calling my attention'…so I decided to just sit and talk with him," Pete lied, imagining what Gerard would have done. He was going to keep up with that, because it was working. Irene's features immediately softened.

"You sweet boy," Irene said, rubbing Pete's shoulder. She gave way to sobbing once more, soon enough.

"And then we started hanging out," Pete continued, trying to look hopeful as he fed off of her broken state. "We…I stopped him from the sexual activities, and he was becoming okay, you know? And then Gerard came into the picture."

"But…I don't understand one thing," Irene said, thinking the whole thing over. Pete became worried about what she'd ask, but his face betrayed him for only a moment. Irene was deep in thought and missed the whole fiasco, luckily for Pete. "Where's Tina in this?" she continued to ask. "Because I remember Anthony hiring her because you and Frank were friends. Is she not your girlfriend?"

"That's the thing with me," Pete explained, giving his story a mental look-through before he continued. He didn't even bother to check whether or not he was lying or telling the truth. As long as his story was believable enough to save his ass, he was fine: truth or lie. "I'm bi, and I didn't want to have anything to do with Frank because I also had a girlfriend at the time, who was Tina. Another reason why I let Frank down when we first met, and I explained I wasn't gay. But…I fell really hard for him…so hard, Mrs. Iero."

Irene gave a slight nod, pursing her lip. "So…Frank way gay then, before you two knew each other?"

"Yeah," Pete said. In actuality, Frank had no idea what he was—straight, bi, or gay—but Pete had nicely changed that hadn't he?

"So's that why Frank hated Tina so much?" Irene asked, finally connecting the two rivals with each other. "Because Frank liked Tina a lot in the beginning…but it must've been that as soon as he saw the connection between you and her, he started hating her…oh, god. Where have I been?" She openly cried, sobbing and wetting her blouse.

"A-all th-this time I've been a b-b-bitch to her," she sobbed. "I-I thought she h-hurt my Frank! But i-it was Frank hurting her all along!" she cried, looking for a tissue to clean her face.

"Tissue?" Pete asked, before frantically searching for a box. It looked like the worst of his troubles was over. "Um, okay…tissue, tissue…"

Within a few moments, Pete found the tissue box and handed it to Mrs. Iero. She wiped her eyes and then blew her nose, sniffling the whole time. "I'm sorry," she apologized, shaking her head. "It's just…oh god."

"I…I just hoped that it wouldn't get serious, and now he's with Gerard…I really want him back; I do." Pete shook his head in disappointment. Sure, the look was rehearsed. But today, he was really disappointed in himself. What was he doing to himself? He was ruining his image over the snot-nosed, yet adorable, Frank. He didn't love him. Why had that even come across his mind? What for?

"You always…you always sounded so sure about everything, Pete," Mrs. Iero noted, blowing her nose after she dabbed her eyes. "I…what happened?"

What did happen? Pete wanted to know, too. He wasn't doing anything by script. It wasn't supposed to happen, and he couldn't get himself to get over that. It's something he'd have to fix for the future, for sure. But as Irene stared at him with a confused heart and mind, Pete mustered up the best he could at the moment—which was the truth.

"I'm worried about him," Pete nervously started as Irene's confused look faltered. She quieted down, trying to hear Pete's explanation. "I…I thought he'd come back real soon, but it…it isn't soon, and I'm…I'm scared for him."

"Oh, Pete I'm so sorry!" Mrs. Iero exclaimed, reaching in to hug her once-sworn enemy. "We weren't there for you like good parents, and now Frank's gone!"

"It's okay," Pete said to a hysterical Mrs. Iero. He was more worried about the fact that the two of them would be driven by emotion, and he didn't need that. That could end up with many possibilities in the end, which he did not need. "We'll get him back—"

"I still can't believe it. Frank, a sex addict?" she interrupted, still in shock from that information. It was too much for her. Prostitution? Was that why he always ended up saving money he got from her? Because he got enough on his own?

"We'll get him back to normal," Pete promised, slowly rocking her back and forth. "We'll find Frank and start over again, okay?"

"Why does fucking Anthony always has to…to b-be so hostile?" she asked again, gripping Pete's shirt. Pete tensed when he felt her grope at his clothing, dejavu clawing at his mind. Frank would grip on to him during the early stages. He missed that…

"…we could have sent him to Sex Addicts Anonymous or something…they h-have th-those, right?" she asked, looking up at Pete after she wiped her nose.

"It's okay," Pete said, trying to ignore the last statement. He didn't have an answer for that, so instead he was just going to comfort the missus. Besides, he didn't want Frank to be treated. He liked Frank how he was. And hopefully, he'd come back from Gerard with improvements. "If we can get them in time, we'll be able to save what's left of Frank."

She sniffled once more before she pulled back from Pete, regaining her composure. "I'm s-s-sorry."

"It's okay," Pete said, rubbing her shoulder. "You're a good parent. You realized something was off, and you're trying to fix it, going back to your son."

"Have you told Anthony about your sexuality?" she finally asked, sniffling.

"Oh, no," Pete said, shaking his head. "Only you, Frank, and Tina know…well, Sara knows too."

"Sara?" Mrs. Iero asked. "Who's—?"

"Mr. Iero didn't tell you?" Pete asked, although he knew damn well that wasn't going to happen. But this was good—more anger fueled for Mrs. Iero. It'd be easier to have and ensure Frank to himself if the Ieros turned on each other.

See what happens when you spend time scheming instead of telling the truth? What a brilliant idea, getting the Ieros to turn on each other! That would leave Frank alone and utterly his.

"I'm trying to get rid of Tina because of how uncomfortable she makes Frank feel…you know," Pete explained. "In preparation for Frank coming home and all."

"Aw," she gasped quietly, bringing a hand to Pete's shoulder. "You're such a sweetheart."

"I wish Frank could see that," he muttered (a rehearsed line, Pete would be proud to point out), and new determination gave birth inside Mrs. Iero right then and there.

"Frank will see that," she promised Pete. "Oh, I'll make him see that with every fiber of his being!"

"What do you mean?" Pete innocently asked, smiling to himself.

"Pete, I give you and Frank my blessing to do whatever the hell you two want!" she said, grasping his shoulders.

BINGO.

"I know he's an adult already now," she continued, smiling as she saw the look of relief on Pete's face, "but you don't have to worry about what we think—"

"We—"

"And I speak for Anthony as well," she continued, blowing off any ounce of authority Anthony might've had. "I'm sure you'll show him the true meaning of love, and show him what he was doing with Gerard was nothing."

A smile found it's way on Pete's face as he gave a slight nod, rubbing Mrs. Iero's shoulders. Frank's mother had just signed Frank off as his. He was allowed to do whatever he wanted with him—not that he wasn't already…but now he could do it and Frank couldn't threaten to tell his parents. This was perfect. This ended out well; better than he had expected, at least.

"Thank you, Mrs. Iero," Pete said, and Irene went forward to hug him.

"Pete, Frank deserves someone like you," she murmured against Pete's cheek as she smiled at him. Pete's grin widened and he happily bit his lower lip as Irene continued her heartfelt promise.

"And in three days, he will."

* * *

Frank woke up to find Gerard's body missing beside him. He wiped the sand clear from his eyes before he sat up, stretching. Though he instantly regretted it, Frank bit his lip to keep from yelping. He had to remind himself that he was the one who asked for it. He didn't regret it at all, either. In fact, the bruises litering his arm were like medals to be proudly worn. But he had to admit that it'd be easier to deal with the pain if he was on good terms with Gerard. Anything was easier to deal with if Gerard was by his side.

"Babe?" he heard Gerard call from the closet, startling him. "You awake?"

"Hm?" Frank muttered, kicking the sheets off of his feet to reveal his boxers and bruised legs. He coughed a bit before he actually responded with, "Yeah."

"Get up, hun," Gerard urged from afar. "We could hang out today."

"How?" Frank asked, unbelievably. He yawned before becoming listless once more on top of the bed. His sprawled body remained lifeless, except for the occasional rise and fall of his stomach as Gerard remained at his location.

"I dunno," Gerard started, still inside the closet. There was a loud bang noise before he continued. "Like those days when we first were here, you know? Just talking…they were nice." Gerard sounded a bit nostalgic, but Frank couldn't tell what it was Gerard was feeling. There was another bang as something was kicked. Frank learned what that 'something' was as soon as he heard his boyfriend mutter, "stupid shitface suitcase." The name made Frank laugh.

"Aww," Frank croaked followed by his dry snickering. He coughed afterwards, stiffly bringing a hand to cover his mouth from spreading germs, but that plan failed. It shouldn't matter anyway, though. He wasn't sick or anything, and Gerard was busy fighting the 'shitface suitcase' over there.

But Gerard eventually came out of the closet with a nice pair of baggy shorts and a tight t-shirt. He had just taken a shower; Frank could tell from how wet his hair was and how it stuck to his forehead. It brought out his gorgeous eyes, and Frank couldn't help but stare. Gerard stared at him back, pure concern marking his features. But the look of concern didn't faze Frank at all. Gerard looked beautiful.

"You okay Frankie?" Gerard asked, scratching his head as he neared the bed (and Frank). Frank nodded, but stopped because of the throbbing headache he was sporting. For a moment, he had forgotten all the pain he'd be in today.

"I think it finally caught up with me," Frank joked about last night, wincing as he slowly arose from the bed. His voice was hoarse, but he could still manage to speak coherently. He staggered a bit as he tried to make his way to the bathroom in order to clean himself. Gerard looked at him apologetically as Frank stumbled, but Frank naughtily looked back at Gerard and gave a wink. Gerard bit his lip, turning away as his heart rate increased. That had been highly erotic, but there was no way he could risk becoming 'excited.' Frank hadn't healed yet, and that wasn't fair.

But Frank didn't seem to care about what was fair.

"Nice job." Frank rasped his congratulations at Gerard, making him blush. Frank wasn't sure, until he heard Gerard's response, everything was cool between them; he waited for a reply of some sort from Gerard, but all he could make out was silence—a growing silence, on Gerard's part. It wasn't long, maybe a few seconds, until a grinning Gerard turned around to face Frank. With the dark tint of pink creeping up his cheeks with every passing second, Gerard shyly chuckled as he nervously rubbed the back of his own neck, mischief reflected in his eyes as well.

"You make it so easy, Frankie."


	53. The 'Talk'

** The "Talk"**

"Frank, not at the table!"

"But I wanna," Frank whined, coughing afterwards.

"Not at the coffee table," Gerard reiterated as he blushed.

"Then you wanna do it on the floor?" Frank asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Frank…"

"On the bed?" he tried, getting up from his seat on the wooden chair. Gerard made a grab for his wrist.

"Never."

"That's not fair," Frank whined.

"Yes it is," Gerard chuckled, bringing Frank over so that he was now sitting on his lap. "I always make it fair."

"You aren't now," he muttered at Gerard, and Gerard chuckled at the boy trapped on his lap. He wasn't going to let go of Frank until he wasn't as determined to have their sex talk, like Gerard had weakly agreed to last night. He thought poor little Frank had forgotten about it, but it looked like he hadn't. His boyfriend had good memory. It was something Gerard only agreed to in order to make his Frankie feel better last night, but it seemed like he had to hold up to it.

"Yeah I am," Gerard replied, tickling Frank's sides. Frank winced, before he started giggling uncontrollably. Gerard chuckled as well, feeling Frank clutch him. Frank squealed one more time before threw his head back and tightened his hold on Gerard.

"Gee," Frank tried, before succumbing to his giggles. "G-Gee!" he repeated, trying to hit Gerard.

"Eff!" Gerard yelled back. "Eff, Argh, Aye, Ehn, Kay! Frank!"

"I was saying your nickname, you dumb ass," Frank complained, hitting Gerard's chest. Gerard's attack on Frank's ribs quickened and Frank squealed.

"Take that back, Frankie," Gerard joked, feeling Frank squirm in his grasp.

"I take it back," Frank recited, immediately lifting his chin. Gerard stared at him, laughing.

"What are you doing that for?"

"I'm waiting for you to kiss me," Frank explained, chin still up. "Kiss me."

"Do I have to?" Gerard jokingly complained, and Frank playfully glared at him before he took matters into his own hands and kissed Gerard on the cheek.

"I meant, 'do I have to' do the sex talk?" Gerard asked, hopefully raising a brow as he received his kiss. He took Frank's silence as a 'no,' but he was mistaken.

"Where is there a better place to talk sex than at the coffee table?" Frank innocently asked, cocking his head to the side. Frank gave a small pout as Gerard covered Frank's face with his hair. Frank shook it away, teasingly glaring again. "I don't see anything wrong," he continued, after clearing his raspy throat. "People have sex on coffee tables. Why can't we just talk about it?"

"No."

"Yes!" Frank squeaked.

"Frank—"

"In fact, this table is pretty sturdy, now that I look at it," he went on, shaking it forcefully. He winced as the edge of the table rubbed against his bare arm. "We should fuck here one day," he commented aloud, banging on it, next. Gerard immediately chuckled, placing his coffee on the floor (instead of the table) before he attended to Frank's hands and restrained him. Frank only gave in, though, due to the headache he had from prior activities and the laughing session he had a few seconds ago.

"Jeez!" Gerard exclaimed as Frank giggled. Frank tried to wriggle out of Gerard's grasp, and Gerard eventually gave in as he came to terms with the fact that Frank was going to get his sex talk. "Okay, I give up! I give up, Frank. We'll have the stupid sex talk," he muttered, rolling his eyes for effect.

Frank gave a smug look as he shrugged. "I knew it," he stated in a patronizing tone.

"Knew what?" Gerard asked, shaking his head. As soon as he was sure that Frank would stop moving the table, he picked up his coffee and placed it on the table.

"I always get you to do what I want in the end," Frank said, biting his lip. "Always," he continued teasing.

"Like what?" Gerard asked, taking a sip from his coffee cup before he replaced it back on the table. A hyper Frank always proved to be amusing.

"If I beg long enough," Frank slowly explained as he gave a boyish grin, "you'll give it to me." Gerard immediately snickered, Frank's explanation falling right in hand with what he suspected. Frank sensually shrugged his shoulders. "You know…whatever 'it' may be," he innocently tagged on, carelessly rolling his eyes.

"What did I get myself into?" Gerard jokingly asked, facing the ceiling as he held his arms in the air. Frank then childishly grabbed for Gerard's arms and tried to pull them down. Gerard resisted his acts and remained firm, refusing to give in to Frank's tugging. Frank remained attached to Gerard as he tried to bring Gerard's arms down. This was nothing but child-play; at least it bought Gerard time from having to answer whatever the fuck it was Frank wanted to know.

"You know, you'll have to go limp sometime," Frank eventually told him, leaning toward the coffee cup. "If you want your coffee, that is."

"Frank, don't play with my coffee," Gerard warned him, becoming quite serious. Frank raised a brow, finding a weak spot.

"What?" he asked, using his nose to gently shove the cup further from the two of them. "You said coffee what?"

"Frank…"

"Have you had sex with coffee?" Frank suddenly asked, hands still pulling Gerard's arms down as he sat upright. Gerard gave him a shocked and surprised face, and Frank responded with, "That's a fair question."

Sure, maybe it was a fair question, but he didn't expect it. "How?"

"You said we could have a talk—''

"And we can."

"And I wanna know if you've done it with coffee involved," Frank bluntly asked. "I won't get mad. I promise."

"Frank—"

"You know what?" Frank asked, getting ahead of himself, "better yet, have you had sex on the table before?" Gerard didn't respond, his eyes wide as his movement ceased. Frank, not bothered by the questions at all, let out a triumphant squeal of victory after he successfully pulled Gerard's arms down.

"Come on," Frank eventually demanded, snapping his fingers in front of Gerard's face. "I want me some answers, Gee. It's completely harmless. Don't freak out," Frank pleaded quietly.

"I'm not freaking out," Gerard said, shaking his head as Frank released his hold on him. "It's just…well, why don't you tell me first?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Probably," Frank immediately responded, trying to recall his past. It took Gerard a while to realize that Frank had answered his own question. "Um…I think I did. I honestly don't remember." Gerard remained silent, waiting for Frank to continue as soon as he caught on. "I was drugged, I know that. No, wait…one time I wasn't drunk. I was just lazy."

"Oh Frank," Gerard said sympathetically, feeling bad for forcing Frank to tell. "Babe, I…no, I haven't."

"You haven't what?" Frank asked, before he realized what Gerard was talking about. "Oh! You haven't," he repeated in awe. "Why not?" He looked up at Gerard, confused. Gerard was a bit confused himself. Did Frank seriously ask, why not? That was kind of funny…

"Well, Frank," he began, "I've never felt so…I've never had so much passion in me to make me take someone right there and then. But," he added thoughtfully, "I guess I kinda did yesterday."

"How?" Yet another one of Frank's childlike and blunt questions.

"I fucked you on the floor yesterday, didn't I?" Gerard asked, smirking. "I don't think I cared much, quite frankly, whether or not you were comfortable at all."

"Really?" Frank asked, raising a brow as he bit his lip, changing his position to sit on Gerard's lap. He got himself comfortable in his position, straddling Gerard in the process. "That's so sexy, baby."

"And I haven't had sex with coffee," Gerard finally said, shaking his head. "I don't think my sex adventures are anything compared to yours."

"Well…have you had a threesome or an orgy or something?" Frank asked, tilting his head. Gerard blushed before giving a faint nod of his head. "How many times?"

"Um…it was on days I really needed money from him," Gerard admitted. "So, I think it's been maybe five times?"

"Hmm," Frank pondered. "Over a span of…?"

"Three to six years," Gerard said, scrunching his eyes. "Yeah, I think that's it." Gerard sat back, holding Frank. He stared into Frank's eyes, expecting Frank to be sky-high on some emotional roller coaster, but instead his eyes reflected pure interest. Come to think about it, Gerard was finding the conversation to be interesting as well. It was obvious Frank was no longer brooding over his past, but accepting it. If having the sex talk helped Frank out, then he was going to do it. "You?" he finally asked.

"Um…I've been drugged too many times to count," Frank admitted. "But…I remember these flashes."

"Flashes?"

"Yeah," Frank said, getting really into it. "I'm in the middle of an orgy, and I see so many faces around me…everyone's into their own thing, too…"

"Do you recognize any people?" Gerard quietly asked, as Frank's gaze deepened. Eventually, Frank shook his head.

"I don't recognize anyone. Not even Pete," Frank assured him. "I see you instead."

"Me?"

"Yeah," Frank grinned. "Anywhere I try to look, I turn and see your face."

"I don't know if this is a bad thing or a good thing—"

"It's good," Frank assured him. "I used to hate orgies, but I have a feeling I'd like 'em now…if I was allowed to drag you along." Frank looked at Gerard's face, wiping away the black hair from his eyes.

"I started getting these dreams again after we first made out," he continued shyly, blushing. "So if they end up sounding stupid and cheesy instead of rough, like you would expect, then…yeah."

"You like it though?" Gerard asked, checking. "You sure these dreams are okay?"

"Of course I'm sure," Frank replied, giggling. "Things have just changed a bit. I'm such a whore now!" Frank continued, holding on to Gerard. "I'm so horny all the time!"

"Frank…"

"No, but I mean it in the good way," Frank explained. "I want it, now. I want to be banged by you, Gee. Or, I guess the 'correct' term to use is 'making love.'" Gerard nodded, to which Frank replied, "I'd rather just call it fucking…"

Gerard gave him a warning look, and Frank went back on track. "But point is, I like so many things that I used to hate." Frank paused as Gerard gave an embarrassed chuckle, shaking his head. "I mean it!" Frank insisted.

Gerard laughed a while more before his tone became a bit serious. "So…how'd you meet Pete, Frank?" he asked. "I…I mean, did he…was he—?"

"He wasn't," Frank replied simply, shaking his head. "He wasn't anything like I thought he'd be."

"What do you—"

"I should have told you a long time ago, but I was so…I don't know how to say it," Frank tried to explain. "I was, I guess, chickening out."

"You don't have to tell me anything," Gerard said, wishing that he'd never asked. He should have waited for Frank to bring it up, like the rest of the sex questions.

"No," Frank insisted. "I…I can say this now, without crying about it. I can…get it off my chest! Only, I don't know where to start. What was your question again?"

"How'd you meet him?" Gerard asked quietly this time, securing his hold on Frank. Frank nodded after a moment of silence and rested his back against the rim of the table.

"Well," Frank started. "You…you know I was teased and beat up everyday at school, right?" Gerard nodded, urging him to continue. "Well, uh…my parents were always out, or they were too busy...and then Pete came along with his girlfriend Tina. I thought they were really nice people, you know? No one had ever spoken to me on their own will before. I mean, not unless they wanted something from me, like money or some shit. But they seemed to genuinely care, and so…I fell for the trap."

"How old were you when you met them?" Gerard asked, rubbing his thumb against Frank's knuckles.

"I think I was fifteen?" Frank wondered, scrunching his eyes. "Yeah."

"So how did it get into such good terms that he went over to your house?" Gerard gently prodded him, a bit interested. He shouldn't have been, but he was.

"Well, I didn't really know them," Frank said. "I bumped into them a few times at the park. I would go there because I found the comfort of the swings to be of better comfort than my room. You've seen my room, haven't you? It's not the homely at all."

Gerard had to agree with him there; it really wasn't.

"But bumping into each other wasn't enough. And soon, they invited me over, so I went. So yeah, I lied when you asked me if I ever went to a friend's house," Frank apologized. "When you asked that question, I was debating on how to answer, because I didn't know what he was to me. He wasn't a boyfriend, he wasn't a friend…I was just very easy and predictable enough for him, I guess. And he knew I wouldn't tell anything to anybody because I didn't have anyone." Frank looked pensive, and Gerard wanted to read his mind.

"Babe?" he quietly asked. "What's going on?"

"I'm just…thinking," Frank replied. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't lie about what he'd felt. He was definitely—back then—on his way to being friends with Pete. But then again, he wasn't really a friend.

"About?"

"I think Pete and I…might have been friends," he uttered aloud. "Or, at least along that path until he…yeah."

"That's only natural," Gerard tried to convince Frank. "I mean, I honestly would have befriended someone like Pete had I not known what I knew. He was friends with my first boyfriend, after all."

"What a small world we live in," Frank muttered, eyes back on Gerard. And like he promised himself, he had no tears. Just a tight smile.

"I'm…I'm sorry Frank," Gerard started. "You…you can not answer me if you feel it's too private, but how…how old were you when Pete—"

"Fifteen," Frank answered, a bit confused. "I thought I told you."

"How deep into 'fifteen' were you?" Gerard asked, fixing his question. "Do you mean fifteen turning sixteen, fifteen and a half?"

"I just turned fifteen," Frank replied. "Well, actually I take that back…I think it was supposed to be a birthday present, but my birthday wasn't for another week, so I think I was technically still fourteen…"

After so many years of etching it into his brain that he had been taken at fifteen, the fact was still mind altering. Frank realized that moment that if you forced your mind to believe on thing, it became the truth…for a while, at least.

"Oh, Frankie," Gerard said, despite him trying to keep his composure.

"Don't worry," Frank said absentmindedly, patting Gerard's shoulder. That was his past. "That was before, hun. And that went on until you showed up, Gerard. You showed up and I saw how stupid I was being. Pete saw, too, which was why he was able to get you fired in an attempt to keep me away from you. I'm not so stupid anymore. I can see…a little bit, at least. And then you came back that day, it was a sign for me to go with you." Frank took the conversation back there, referring to the night that started it all. But this time, he wasn't using it for the 'blame game' they usually played.

"You showed me that you cared about me without having sex with me, which was the thing Pete couldn't live without," he continued, grinning now. "I don't even care about my past anymore. How can I keep lingering on the past when I have you right in front of me? I mean, yeah I'm no virgin. But I was, in the sense of your…whatever you want to call it."

"Making love," Gerard said, kissing Frank's lips.

"Fucking," Frank insisted, accepting Gerard's sweet kiss. "And now that I know what it can feel like with the person you love…I wanna fuck like rabbits." Frank tried as hard as he could to keep his face straight, but after witnessing Gerard's red face, he couldn't help but burst out with laughter.

It was a while before Frank relaxed, his diaphragm hurting from the short burst workout. Gerard could only shake his head. Only Frank would take a serious issue and joke about it like that. Gerard gave Frank another kiss, expecting to have to play the role of 'consoling' boyfriend, like he had during the earlier months. But Frank proved him wrong when he pulled back after the kiss, asking, "So…in all seriousness, Gerard, how was yesterday?"

Gerard scratched his head. Guess Frank was really serious about having the sex talk, then. "Yesterday was—"

"Because is my masochism a problem?" Frank interrupted, getting to the key problem. "I think I just figured out why I have it that badly…is it too much?"

"No, I enjoyed it, Frank." Gerard held Frank's wrists, taking them off of his body and restraining Frank. He restricted Frank against the edge of the table, as to prove something; Frank arched his back and their lower tummies rubbed against each other during Gerard's demonstration. "I was being so stupid yesterday."

"Really?" Frank gasped, biting his lower lip. Gerard's little 'demonstration' was working. "You were fine?"

"Fine," Gerard insisted. "In fact, I held back yesterday."

To hear that Gerard had more where that came from was enticing. "Did you?"

"I did," Gerard admitted, rubbing his nose in the crook of Frank's neck. "I realized your little fetish the first time we made love, though."

"A-am I obv-vious?" Frank stuttered, trying to speak normally.

"You practically beg me to every time," Gerard smirked. "You didn't notice?" Frank shook his head. "Well, I did. I can read your body, Frank. And next time, I won't stop myself…unless I'm killing you," he thoughtfully added.

"You could do that?" Frank asked in awe.

"Oh, my poor Frank," Gerard teased, making Frank pout. "I've been fucking Pete for money, that scumbag. Where do you think I got my traits from? As a matter of fact, where do you think he got his?"

"Of course," Frank moaned, grinning as he felt Gerard emphasize his point. Gerard smirked as the light bulb went of in Frank's head.

"I wanted to handcuff you," Gerard admittedly continued, enjoying their little grinding session. He tensed as he felt Frank's legs tighten around him.

"We have them?" Frank asked, surprised. He immediately sat up properly on Gerard and Gerard smirked, attending his lips to Frank's lower neck.

"Of course…we do," he murmured.

"When'd we get some?" Frank asked, completely interested. "Or…did we always have…?"

"Bought them the day we went to New York," Gerard said, head in the crook of Frank's neck. "Behind your back."

"Oh, you slick fucker you!" Frank exclaimed, giggling as he felt Gerard nibble him.

"I didn't use it though," he whispered, inhaling Frank's addictive scent.

"Why didn't you restrain me and bang me like the fuck toy I am?" Frank asked with a seductive moan, as he felt Gerard's tongue on his skin, to emphasize his point.

"Honestly, it was too far away," Gerard said, chuckling as he sat back up.

"Where is it?" Frank asked, arching his back to relieve some pain on his lower back. The edge of the table made a mark on his back; he could feel it.

Gerard nodded to his suitcase. "Packed," he told him.

"Well, that's no fun!" Frank complained.

"I could have used a pocketknife," Gerard pondered out loud, and Frank grinned instantly.

"I have a feeling I would find that extremely sexy," Frank said, his eyes gleaming.

"Oh, you would," Gerard nodded, holding Frank against him to ensure Frank wouldn't fall off. "We'll try it…maybe."

"Oh, what's your fantasy, Gerard?" Frank asked suddenly, and Gerard chuckled at how quickly Frank changed the topic. Frank's mind was unstable. Cute, but unstable nonetheless.

"I don't have one—"

"Bullshit," Frank interrupted. "What is it? Everyone has one."

"I don't."

"Tell me, babe," Frank pleaded. "Even if it involves me playing 'dress-up,' I'll do it."

"Well, what's yours Frankie?" Gerard asked. Frank shook his head.

"Mine's pretty pathetic."

"That doesn't matter," Gerard demanded. "Spill."

"Gerard, I asked you first," Frank scolded him. "You spill."

"Mine already happened," Gerard replied.

"Stop lying."

"It did," Gerard insisted.

"When?"

"I told you already yesterday," Gerard said. "My first fantasy was making love to you, which we did. And then, it was you sucking me off…and then the latest one."

"Do you have another one?" Frank asked, listening intently. Gerard blushed, before he avoided Frank's question.

"I want to hear yours," Gerard insisted, crossing his arms. "It's your turn, babe. Spill."

"It's stupid," Frank insisted, eyes wide. "I wasn't joking when I said that."

"Stop lying," Gerard insisted, taunting Frank as he used his own words against him. Frank gave a sigh before a small blush gave way.

"I want you," Frank slowly started, "to…It already happened, so let's just leave it at that, okay?"

"Spill," Gerard demanded, determined to get it out of Frank. Frank closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Gerard couldn't say he didn't warn him. If they were having a sex talk, then nothing could be off-limits…on both sides.

"I want you to just…bang me again, like yesterday," Frank finally admitted. "No…no remorse, I guess. Or…or maybe if that makes you feel bad, pretend to rape me instead."

"Frankie!" Gerard teased, looking aroused. "I never knew."

"I dunno," he said, blushing again. "Whatever you want. I just…I like the aggression, when it's from you. And I like feeling helpless when it comes to you. It's just…yeah. That's what I want. That's my fantasy."

Gerard was pensive for a short moment, before Frank tried to explain himself. "That was so stupid, but—"

"Car," Gerard interrupted, smirking.

"Huh?" Frank asked, slightly confused.

"Car," Gerard repeated to his boyfriend. "I want to fuck you in a car. That's my next fantasy."

"Sounds like a plan," Frank breathed, grinning. So, maybe Gerard hadn't thought his fantasy was completely stupid. Or maybe he felt his fantasy was as crazy as his, since he finally admitted his next fantasy. Whatever. His fantasy didn't freak Gerard out, and he was fine. Besides, now he knew Gerard's next fantasy, so he could hopefully work on it. But Frank's smile faded as soon as the realization hit him about the car. "But…we don't have a car."

"I know."

The two remained silent, thinking about their limitations. But it wasn't long until Frank's mind traveled back to their prior conversation.

"How do you feel about it?" Frank asked. "You know…being in an orgy?"

"You want us to be in an orgy?" Gerard asked, surprised.

"Not really," Frank admitted. He didn't want to share Gerard with everyone, but because of how greedy he sounded he hadn't wanted to say it.

"Um…well, I guess it depends on your place," Gerard tried to explain, blushing.

Frank coyly raised a brow, shifting his position on Gerard. "You need to know your place?"

"If you'll be the center of attention, the main provider, or just a minor role. Your place, you know? Sort of how your 'place' is under me," Gerard told Frank, making him blush.

"I have a question about that, actually," Frank asked, yet another question popping into his mind. Gerard thanked his stars as Frank's mind got sidetracked from the orgy question. Sure, he knew no question was off limits, but he couldn't help but blush when it came to that question.

"Ask away."

"Which position are you more comfortable with?" Frank asked, biting his lip. "I mean, do you like the top? Does it bother you that I'm always bottom?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Gerard said, and Frank shook his head.

"I mean it, Gee," Frank insisted.

"I'm serious," Gerard said. "I like…I'm fine with how things are…but are you?"

"I don't want to sound greedy, but yes," Frank giggled. "I love it."

"That's good," Gerard breathed, smiling. "Because in this 'orgy' vision we're about to have, I was going to start things off with that. Of course, you'd be the main focus; and of course, I was going to have you writhing under me."

"'Main focus' as in?"

"'Main focus' as in 'everyone would be into it, trying to get next to you and hopefully fuck you,'" Gerard bluntly stated. "Whether you notice it or not, Frank, you are a sexy piece of ass."

"Thank you," Frank murmured, biting his lip.

"But, of course only I'd be able to fuck you the way you want."

"And not feel bad about it after?" Frank asked, prompting Gerard for a reply. He'd noticed Gerard was playfully allowing himself to refer to their intimacy as 'fucking,' and tried to convince Gerard to continue with his ways.

"And not feel bad about it after," Gerard added in verbatim. "I'd fuck the life out of you and feel great. I promise." He jokingly raised his right hand and put it over his heart.

"Ooh," Frank exclaimed, tightening the hold his hands had around Gerard's shoulders. "I like the sound of it already," he purred. "So…are you fucking me hard?"

"All I want to do, Frank," Gerard answered sexily, "is fuck you raw. So yes. In this fantasy of mine, I'm fucking you raw and hard."

"Well that's perfect Gerard," Frank seductively purred, securing his legs around his boyfriend. "Because I want you to fuck me raw. So in this fantasy, I hope that's exactly what you're doing."

"It is," Gerard promised him, holding Frank at his sides. Frank bit his lip to keep from giggling.

"I'm going to imagine this next time," Frank warned him, giggling. "Just so you know."

"You're talking as if we are gonna fuck again," Gerard chuckled. "How can you be so sure? I thought this was just a talk"

"I want us to fuck again," Frank said, kissing Gerard's collarbone. "In a car, though."

"That won't happen."

"Yes it will."

"How?" Gerard asked, amused.

"We can pretend…?"

"Then it's not the real thing, and therefore the fantasy is not fulfilled."

"Fuck," Frank muttered.

"I did last night."

"Screw you," Frank joked, pulling back for a brief moment. Gerard chuckled.

"Well, fuck you."

"I hope you do."

"And I will," Gerard jokingly assured him, smirking. Of course, that was just an empty promise. This whole conversation, Gerard openly noted, was littered with them. They were harmless, though. At least it made them forget about the dilemma they were in for once. Plus, there was a smile on Frank's face. What he wouldn't do to keep it there.

"Kinky, are we?" Frank asked. His lips attached to Gerard's collar as he sucked viciously, raising a leg as he brought Gerard's mind back to this moment.

"As always," Gerard grinned, taking Frank's leg and pushing it back. Frank started moaning, before he spurted out in laughter. Gerard had started tickling Frank's soles, causing Frank to giggle and twitch involuntarily. Frank tried to shove Gerard back, but failed miserably as he violently fell off Gerard's lap. Frank's face expressed a moment of pain before he continued giggling. That had hurt his back, Gerard could tell, but Frank insisted on covering it up.

"I shouldn't have done that," he started, rushing to floor beside his boyfriend. "Oh Frank," he continued, apologetically.

"Shh, Gee," Frank simultaneously urged him as Gerard went down on the ground as well. "I'm not a china doll."

"Well, I'm no angel either," Gerard retorted, brushing Frank's polite terms away. "But you treat me like it."

"That's cuz you treat me like I'm a doll."

"You treat me like I'm godly."

"You are," Frank replied, sitting up on his elbows.

"And you're my china doll," Gerard murmured sweetly. Frank glared.

"You can't fuck me like that and call me a china doll," Frank complained. "I'd break and die from one touch, meaning no magic, no fireworks, and no sex."

"You're my china doll…with reinforcements," Gerard corrected himself, kissing Frank's pouting lips. Frank sheepishly grinned.

"That's better."

"I thought so," Gerard replied, grinning as well. He made his way closer to Frank as he held his waist. Frank's breath caught in his throat as Gerard nuzzled his nose into the crook of his neck once more, gently kissing Frank's flesh.

When he pulled away, however, he saw a teary-eyed Frank and his heart fell. Just when he thought the 'talk' would have gotten Frank's mind off of it all, he was wrong. Like he said before, his boyfriend had such good memory. In all fairness, though, it was kind of hard to ignore a fact such as theirs.

"Aren't we the perfect couple?" Frank sadly murmured, blinking his tears away. He was determined not to cry, but to enjoy the few quiet moments they still had with each other. He could tell that Gerard understood his attempts at normalcy, but felt the same way. That made him feel less stupid about the few tears he almost shed, and a bittersweet smile made its way to his face as he heard Gerard's answer.

"We are," Gerard sadly agreed, looking back into Frank's eyes. He wasn't going to try and cover up his pain, like he had yesterday. That hadn't ended well at all, and he had learned from his mistakes that Frank would rather have the blunt truth than the sugarcoated lie. "We are the perfect couple. But, nobody else sees it."


	54. Calm Of The Storm

**Calm Of The Storm**

While her son and Gerard spent the day with each other, Mrs. Iero was busting her ass to ensure that the memorial service would go on as planned. She had deliberated on whether or not she'd make it an actual funeral, because then it wasn't fair at all to Mrs. Way. More importantly, how would she be able to gather all of the family and move them to Bergen County in two days? It was too much of a hassle. Sure, she called the funeral home and planned an event, but there was no body or family for that matter. It was just she and Pete. Besides, the Ways were probably wasting time on Mikey's body anyway. She could make the funeral seem more like a memorial service instead; if Frank or Gerard knew about the fact that there was no body they wouldn't come.

Besides, Pete reminded her, _they _didn't have to know that there was no body in the casket. And since Pete was tagging along, he planned the whole situation to make it that the funeral was closed casket. He paid a visit to the funeral home in Alpine first thing in the morning before he ate any breakfast. The news from yesterday was fresh in Irene's mind, and Irene made it a goal to make amends with Pete so that by the time Frank came back, they could be a big happy family.

Pete already seemed like he was heading for that position; he hadn't wanted Mrs. Iero to do anything today, besides sleep and rest. He swore he'd have everything under control. In fact, Pete had even gained enough trust from Mrs. Iero that she let him take her cell phone so that if any important calls came in, he'd deal with them. All this time, she felt like she was the only one who truly cared about her baby boy. But after last night and what Pete proposed to do, she knew that she wasn't alone anymore. Pete cared for Frank nearly as much as she did. It was her husband that couldn't care less, and as soon as Frank was back, she was going to change that.

By mid-morning, Pete arrived back at the hotel room to alert Mrs. Iero what he'd set up for Friday. He had, according to Irene's knowledge, told the funeral home that the body was beyond repair. With that, the funeral home was less stingy and strict about the 'body in the casket' policy. But they had asked more about the state of the body, so Pete told them that the body would be prepared without any charge of the home.

"They loved that," Pete explained, smirking. "To get them off my back I said they could still charge us for preparing the body, even though they aren't." Mrs. Iero gave a small nod, thinking about what had to get done by today and tomorrow night, before Friday came around. True, now she and Pete would have to go casket shopping, and body shopping (where would they get a body?) but it was better that no one knew what they were doing until it was over. _Especially _the media and the police. They always screwed things up.

"I did the layout, too," Pete explained, taking out a blueprint from his pocket of the possible rooms where the body would be. Well, the casket: not body. "There's these two rooms that they are thinking about," he explained, pointing to the two rectangular figures. "They're all hyped up about it because you're gonna be there, so they want a room with the most light." Mrs. Iero rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile. It was nice to be noticed: it was something Anthony stopped doing.

"After the whole ceremony or whatever," he continued, looking straight into Irene's eyes, "they're gonna head outside. And then they will put the dirt on the coffin, and then the guests walk away. Or they'll put the coffin in the ground right then and there. I told them it didn't matter to us which one they did because by then, we'll have Frank."

"So who gives a crap about the casket," Irene finished, nodding. "Got it."

"It starts at 8:00 A.M.," Pete said, resting his back on the bed-rest as soon as he finished with the important details. "And if there are no huge interruptions, it should end by 12:00 P.M. So within those four hours, Frank will be ours."

"And Gerard will be the state's problem," Irene added, smiling at Pete. He smiled back, but as the words repeated in his mind he remembered something. There was no reason for them to worry about Gerard falling for a fake funeral scene, none at all.

"You know Gerard's never gone to a proper funeral before?" Pete told her, rising a bit as her statement hit something in his memory. He scrunched his eyebrows together as he thought about the most Gerard might have done. "The most he's ever done was…well, nothing."

"What do you mean?" she asked, slightly interested. She wanted to know a little of Gerard's background to help convince herself that he'd show up to Mikey's funeral. If Pete was suddenly telling her that funerals weren't Gerard's thing, then she was screwed. She'd never allowed Frank to go to a funeral, and if Gerard hated funerals, then…

"His grandma died while he was in high school," Pete explained, still thinking back to the days when he and Gerard used to hang out. Well, it was really Gerard's boyfriend that he used to hang out with, but the point still stood; it was so long ago.

"Was he okay?" she caught herself asking. No, she didn't care what happened to Gerard. But she wondered if the death had something to do with the way he behaved now. "How did she die?"

"Murder," Pete truthfully admitted. Gerard hadn't spoken about it much. In fact, there were times when he acted like her death never occurred, even though it was obviously hurt him in more ways than one. He tended to do that to many important people in his life. But it was only a matter of time before he would crack. Pete had seen Gerard during some of the lowest points of his life; it wasn't pretty when it all caught up with him.

"I think it was a robbery," he continued. "Although, there wasn't much to rob…"

"How was the funeral?" Mrs. Iero asked, brushing that information aside. "Yeah, yeah: poor old lady. But how was the funeral? I want Gerard to walk into the building with Frank knowing—or feeling like he knows—it's a funeral. And not be scared of it. We can't afford that, Pete. I want to make sure I'll get Frank back."

Pete chuckled at her dismissal. She was pretty cold when she wanted to be. He liked that. "He never went."

Irene gave an angry groan as her suspicions seem to come to life. "Why not?"

"I guess he never fully came to terms with death, and so he just decided the best way to deal with it was to ignore it," Pete reasoned slowly. "So, none of them has ever actually gone to a funeral. I'm sure whatever you cook up will be good enough," he finished surely.

"Are you positive?" she asked. "Why would Gerard want to come to this funeral if he didn't come for the old lady?"

"You said so yourself," Pete said, shrugging. "Frank seemed to be debating it, which means that Gerard was debating it—or actually wanted to go. One of them wants to go, Mrs. Iero: that's enough to ensure that they _will_. They're cracking, Irene. And as twisted as it may seem to the both of us, Gerard…Gerard probably loves—"

"Don't," she interrupted him coldly, shutting her eyes. "Don't say that. He doesn't."

"—Frank," Pete went on, holding Mrs. Iero's hand. She jolted on impulse, shaking her head. To ease her tension, Pete rubbed her hand slowly. "If we look at things from his perspective, he's going to take Frank's well-being into consideration. And thanks to the media, he already knows things aren't looking too good for him. He's going to get caught soon, and I think he learned his lesson from the last funeral he skipped. And the same thing could run for Frank, because he claims to love…Gerard."

That had actually been hard for Pete to say. Frank couldn't possibly love Gerard: the little fucktard had no idea what love was. And he sure as hell doubted that the four or so months Frank spent with Gerard could wash away three years of what they had. Regardless of how Pete felt, he cleared his throat before continuing. "If Frank loves Ger—him, then he'll do whatever Gerard says after checking out all the possibilities. There _are _no more possibilities left for the two of them, though. If Gerard is the one who wants to go to say goodbye to his brother, Frank's going to make sure that they go. And if it's Frank that wants to come back home to us and stop pretending that he's in love with some douche, then Gerard will agree to it. Trust me, Irene," Pete insisted. "They'll come."

Mrs. Iero sighed, not sure if she should take Pete by his word. But as she juggled with all possibilities, she decided that the worst that would happen was that she'd have get Frank sooner. The police were already on their way to head to the area where the bank teller had called in. They just wanted to make sure 'they had the right place' because it looked pretty run-down, and they doubted, as did she, that Frank would agree to stay in such a filthy looking place. She had told them that they could ransack the place tomorrow night instead. But on the other hand, if she went ahead and the two showed up, then she'd have Frank come_ on his own_. As a mother, she couldn't sit back and do nothing: not if there was a chance of seeing her son. Yet at the same time, there was something about having Frank show up on his own that was appealing. Even if he was trapped into doing it, the fact that Frank would come on his own meant that something was still there in her son: maybe her baby was still in there.

"Okay, so…I'm going to go ahead with it," she said slowly and Pete smiled, nodding. "I'm going to go ahead with it, and pay people to be the attendees." She smiled to herself before looking at Pete again. However, it wasn't long until her smile faltered. "But won't I still need to contact the Ways? What if they come to the funeral and Gerard doesn't recognize anyone? He won't—"

After her rapid questioning, Pete was sure she still had doubts with the whole thing; but he remained calm. "Gerard has no idea how funerals work," Pete reiterated. "And there was a small time in Gerard's life when he and Mikey weren't in contact for a while. We'll just say they were Mikey's friends. Or, to be safe, we'll have their backs facing the entrance…" Pete paused, thinking of the layout he set for the room. "Yeah, so Mikey's body will be at the 'front,' and you'll see the casket as soon as you enter the room. So by the time they come over, we can shut the doors, get Frankie, and call police."

Pete paused, thinking of the way to trap them if they came last minute and everyone was outside. "And…if they come when we're all outside, I instructed them to have some police personnel mix in with the crowd," Pete continued slowly, making sure what he was saying made sense. "So if they come, they'll be surrounded immediately."

"And then we'll get Frank back," Irene slowly concluded, digesting the information. Pete smiled, hand on Mrs. Iero's shoulder.

"Exactly."

* * *

"So…you want to pack—"

"Everything," Frank assured Gerard, smiling after he cleared his throat. The raspy throat he'd earned from last night's activities hadn't worn off yet, but he was better than earlier this morning. He was beginning to think his voice had gotten that way partly because he hadn't rested it enough. He and Gerard actually had breakfast, even if it was just coffee and milk. They rarely had that. Plus, he wasn't able to sleep well last night because he was still worried about Gerard.

Gerard gave him a strained smile before he stopped even trying. Maybe Gerard was kind of tired too. Regardless, Frank grabbed the underwear from Gerard's hands as he continued to explain, "I don't want to leave anything of ours behind."

Gerard sighed as he picked up more of his own belongings that he had wanted to throw out. For some reason, Frank wanted to keep them all. This was _Frank _he was dealing with. The kid had weird fetishes, but Gerard still loved him. Maybe thinking of Frank's weird obsessions would give him something to laugh about in jail.

Jail. Gerard had given the whole possibility—no, reality—a thought after he and Frank had their little sex talk. Almost all of the things they had spoke about were impossible to do. Not because they didn't have the energy to do that; no _sir_. But it had more to do with their time limits, and that got Gerard thinking about the boy he'd be dooming once he left and went off to jail. He couldn't do it, and he _wouldn't_ do it. Once Friday came, he would make his decision final. There would be nothing Frank or anyone could do about it then.

"Hey," Frank gently demanded, interrupting Gerard's thoughts. Frank went up to Gerard and held his cheek, softly kissing his lips despite the nature of his own. Gerard didn't push him away, but he didn't return the act either. "Don't be sad, babe. We've still got two whole days…" Frank frowned himself as he rephrased his statement, rubbing his bruised arm. "Actually, we only have one full day, because today is already kinda-sorta gone…and then Friday is…yeah, well…my point is that if you keep grumping about, it's your grumpy face I'll remember for all of eternity." With that in mind, Gerard tried a little bit less to frown.

"That's better." Frank giggled and Gerard gave a grunt afterwards, throwing the item that was in his hand at Frank as he laid his back against the bed. He didn't want to be here, doing this. He wished they could rewind and possibly go back and replay they're time here, instead of having three days to best think up a way to break it off with his boyfriend.

Frank stared at Gerard before he silently resumed packing. He didn't know what to do, and he felt awful. After their sex talk, Gerard had seemed distant and pensive. And it wasn't long before his pensive looks turned depressive. This was how Gerard must have felt every time Frank did one of his episodes. Sighing, Frank threw the item Gerard had thrown at him into his backpack, before moving on to pack other things. Maybe he could continue packing for Gerard, so that by the time Gerard felt better they would have nothing else left to take care of. That would be helpful, right?

As Frank slowly stood up and made his way to Gerard's bag (his midsection was still a bit sore), Gerard remained lifeless on the bed. In fact, if Frank could see correctly, Gerard's eyes were closed. Then again, he couldn't be accurate since he was relying on his poor height and bad eyesight. Whatever it was that he saw, he didn't bother to think twice as he began to peek through the things Gerard planned on throwing away. Gerard heard the shuffling and opened up one eye to see what was going on.

"Are you sure there's nothing else in here?" Frank asked over his shoulder. Gerard grumbled in annoyance, trying to jumpstart his plan; but Frank thought he was joking.

"Take whatever you want, Frank," Gerard muttered. "It's not like I can keep it in jail." The last sentence depressed Frank and he stopped rummaging through Gerard's things, but Gerard urged Frank to take them anyway. "It's better you have it than the police."

That was true, but the circumstance in which Gerard's things were being offered was upsetting. Frank knew something was up, and he tried to speak out about it. "Gerard, baby," Frank started. "If this is about this morning—"

"Frank, not now," Gerard abruptly demanded. "I'm thinking."

Lifelessly, Frank returned his attention to Gerard's bag and let his hand swim through it. It wasn't his goal to actually get anything, but he stopped when his hand hit something cold and metallic. With a swift motion, Frank pulled to reveal the handcuffs Gerard had been talking about earlier this morning. He immediately started giggling.

"What's so funny?" Gerard asked, yawning. He sounded so dead and apathetic. It scared Frank, but he had to remind himself that he did the same thing to Gerard all the time. So instead of worrying, Frank decided to let Gerard in on his latest discovery.

"Found the handcuffs," he replied, grinning after he licked his puffed lips.

Gerard chuckled a little as well before he added, "That right there is something I prefer you have than the police."

"Any other secrets?" Frank asked Gerard playfully, before he dove into his bag again. This time, his hand hit something hard and rectangular. But it was thin, like a book. Had Gerard brought a book over when this whole ordeal started? And if he had, why hadn't he seen Gerard reading it? Or was this a journal of some kind?

"Gee?" Frank quietly asked. Sure Gerard had spoken a bit now, but his last excuse was that he was 'thinking.' He didn't want to make Gerard angry, by any means. When Gerard didn't snap back, Frank continued to ask, "Did you bring a journal?"

"No," Gerard replied, sighing. Frank looked back to see Gerard's eyes were now open and staring at him. "Why?" Gerard asked, sitting up. "What's wrong?"

"You brought a book with you while you kidnapped me?" Frank asked, pretending to be offended. Gerard could tell Frank was only kidding around though, trying to get a laugh from him. It was a sweet thing to witness, since Frank was always on the other side of the fence.

"Well sorry miss diva," Gerard replied, lying flat on his stomach now as he used his elbows to support himself. He hadn't remembered bringing a book, but as he thought back on it, he very well could have. That would have been a surprise, though. "If you remember correctly, we weren't talking to each other when I took you away. Besides," he added, seizing an opportunity to create a chasm in their relationship, "that book is way more interesting than you are."

"Hey!" Frank gasped, and Gerard raised a brow at him as if to say, 'What? That's the truth.' Frank didn't let it get to him; not after the last argument they had because of his inability to recognize a sarcastic remark. "Not funny," he complained instead, taking the book out the bag. Since Gerard hadn't objected to it, he guessed that meant it was nothing Gerard wanted to hide from him. He wasn't going to cry or wimp out this time over some dumb remark Gerard didn't mean. He was an adult now.

Frank's eyes widened after he opened into the middle of the book. Giving a sigh, Gerard rose out of bed and headed over to Frank to explain himself, or find some way to explain to Frank that whatever he was looking at wasn't as bad as it seemed. But had he seen what Frank was looking at, he would have seen he had a whole lot more to explain than just 'it's an old book' or 'I don't even know what's in it.'

Frank didn't know how to break it to Gerard about what it was that he was looking at, either. It was obvious this wasn't a reading book, but it could have very well counted as a journal. Pictures spoke 1,000 words. Why would he ever try to explain it to Gerard when he could just simply hold up the book and have the same effect?

With shaking hands Frank held up the sketchbook to his boyfriend and Gerard stopped in his tracks. There, on the four-month-old page, was the picture he'd drawn of Frank the first time they entered the motel, with Frank resting against the headboard. His heart was in his throat and he quickly shook his head as soon as he saw it. But Frank's labored breaths grew louder and louder as he flipped through the book and saw more portraits of himself that Gerard had drawn.

Had Gerard felt this about him all along? Frank questioned himself. He turned the page to see another sketch that hadn't been finished, but it was another one of him in the motel during the early days, watching Elmo's World. He was looking at himself through Gerard's eyes, and it touched him deeply. There was no way Gerard could have felt this about him overnight, which could only mean that Gerard had liked him a little bit when he first started out as his 'mentor.'

With wide and now teary eyes, Frank smiled at his boyfriend. "Gee…these are amazing."

Gerard simply shrugged and replied, "Well, that's yet another example of things the cops shouldn't have. Give me." But Frank's eyes returned to the page, Gerard's words falling on deaf ears. With a sigh, Gerard gave it another try. "Look, Frank—"

"Oh, I'm looking alright," Frank replied, eyes scanning the pages. It was silent for a moment as he turned and found yet another picture. "You have so much talent, babe."

"Frank—"

"_Gerard_," Frank repeated in awe, before sniffling. He wiped his eyes quickly, but this time they were tears of joy. He could allow himself to cry this once, right?

"I didn't want you to think I was some creepy stalker or something," Gerard admitted quietly, not sure if he should include this into his 'master plan.' Frank scoffed.

"Oh please," he muttered, showing Gerard the picture he'd drawn of Frank sleeping. "You're not a creepy stalker. You're amazing at this shit!"

"Frank, give it back."

"You said I could keep the stuff in your bag," Frank playfully replied, closing it and hugging it to his chest.

This was exactly what Gerard didn't want. With that book, Gerard could keep his passion and love for Frank alive: at least for the two or so days they had left with each other. He planned on burning it the day before they set off so that Frank would never see or know how much he had thought about him before they officially were a couple. Wasn't it his goal to teach Frank how it felt to be loved? He'd done that; keeping Frank in love with him while he was in jail wasn't fair at all for the eighteen year old. Before his life had begun, he'd be forced to live it waiting for him. No one should have had to go through that, especially not Frank. Gerard knew that showing Frank his portraits would just suck Frank deeper in love with Gerard, and now was the time to distance himself from Frank so that when he dumped Frank on Friday, it wouldn't hurt as much.

After those thoughts flew in Gerard's head, he was pretty sure he knew what he was going to do with this situation.

Gerard extended his hand and waited for Frank to place the book in his hands. "I said, 'Give it back.'"

"No." Frank repeated, clutching the book tightly. Gerard sighed as he shook his head and went back to the bed, leaving Frank to stand there on his own. But instead of pitifully standing there, Frank joined Gerard on the bed. Though there was a dull sting, Frank remained where he was and Gerard looked at him, silently extending his hand; Frank grudgingly returned the book to Gerard once he noticed that Gerard wasn't joking.

"Thank you," Gerard said, before throwing it carelessly into the corner of the room. The two inwardly flinched (each for separate reasons) as they heard the book crash into the wall. But Gerard remained on the bed, resting as Frank stared at the fallen sketchbook.

"What's wrong?" Frank quietly asked, motioning to the corner of the room where the book had been thrown. "Gee, you worked hard on those."

"Is that why you're upset?" Gerard asked, glaring at Frank. "Or is it because there're pictures of you in there?" Frank blinked twice, but didn't say anything for a while. Something was definitely wrong with Gerard. This wasn't him. After their little 'talk' he'd grown completely quiet. Stupid him! He should have tried to cheer Gerard up then before he got into the state he was in now. He was such a fucking idiot.

But sitting there and silently calling himself an idiot wasn't going to do anything for Gerard. "Baby, do you really think that's why I'm upset?" Frank quietly asked, his voice low and raspy. He cleared his throat again as Gerard shrugged and raised a hand to hold Gerard's shoulder. "No, Gerard," he continued to tell him. "It isn't."

"Then do tell," Gerard said, mocking him as he shrugged Frank's hand off of him. Frank took a deep breath as he tried to think of the right thing to say, or what to do. Gerard was so perfect at it, there for him whenever he was down. But the one time Gerard was depressed, he couldn't do anything right.

_ That's not the way to sound nurturing_, Frank scolded himself. _Just talk to him_.

"I saw the dates on those things," Frank admitted, reaching to hold Gerard again. This time, Gerard didn't move him away. "And I saw all those pictures," Frank continued, lying down next to Gerard instead of sitting from afar. His body cried out in protest, but he remained the way he was.

"It was nothing," Gerard said, shrugging. "I was…over-exaggerating before."

"Gerard, what's wrong?" Frank quietly asked again, fearful of Gerard's response. This didn't sound like him, it didn't sound like him at all.

"Nothing," Gerard said, shrugging. "I just think you should think twice about getting so emotionally attached to some stupid drawings of yourself."

"They're 'stupid drawings' of myself that _you _drew," Frank pitifully defended himself as he rapidly blinked his eyes. _Don't cry, don't cry_…

"Well, 'who cares?' is my point," Gerard said. "I drew pictures of you. Whoop-de-fucking-whoop."

"Gerard…" Frank murmured. "I know you don't mean that."

"Then tell me what I do mean."

"I don't know," Frank answered back. "I really don't know. I don't know why anything is the way it is anymore. We were so happy, Gee. What happened? Was it the stupid sex talk we had? Did I say something?"

"You know what? You did say something," Gerard said, rising from his comfortable position. Frank rose to sit up, too.

"What?" Frank desperately asked. "Tell me."

"And it helped me realize a whole fucking lot what type of shit I'm in," Gerard continued, ignoring Frank's pleas. "Who cares about some stupid pictures I drew of you?"

"I do," Frank sincerely answered.

"Of course you would," Gerard muttered, and Frank remained silent. "Everything that has to do with rich-boy is no doubt important to you."

"Y-you know that's not true!" Frank insisted, standing up beside the bed. Just in case his body failed him, he held on to the bedpost. "Gerard, what happened? Did Pete call or something?"

"Reality, Frank," Gerard replied. "Reality is what happened. We're on almost every news channel on television because of the funeral. We're on every news channel because I'm about to hand myself in," he rephrased himself. "And you know what? I've finally realized what a huge mistake it was to bring you home with me."

Instead of becoming hysterical, Frank quietly nodded as he accepted the fact and asked, "So you finally realized, huh? What made you—"

"Realize that I didn't love you?" Gerard interrupted. Even as he stated the lie, there was a pang in his chest. No doubt, there was one in Frank's heart. The little talk about it being a mistake Frank was brought home happened all the time, but this…saying he didn't love Frank was something else.

Frank knew that wasn't true. They were so fucking happy a few hours ago, and nothing big had happened since then. True, it hurt to hear Gerard say that, and it hurt him even more that whatever was making him feel that way was bad enough to let him utter those words. But the most important thing was to figure out what was eating at Gerard. He'd have time for his own feelings later.

"Gerard, this isn't you!" Frank pleaded. "I know it's not. Just _please_. Tell me what's wrong?" And at the worst possible timing ever, Frank's cell phone started vibrating. He took it out of his pocket and tossed it on the bed, muttering, "I don't need this right now."

But Gerard took it, looked at caller ID, and confirmed, "Yes, you do. It's your mother."

"What we have going on here is much more important, Gee."

"Not more important than the information she'll tell us so I can finally leave you," he coldly retorted, and Frank gave a sigh as he reached for the cell phone in Gerard's hand.

"Is that really what's bugging you?" Frank asked, debating whether or not he'd open it. "You want us to go and hand ourselves in right now? Because if that's what'll make you happy, Gee, I'll do—"

"Answer your mother," Gerard curtly demanded instead. He rose from his position and brushed by Frank before he grabbed a shirt and opened the door to their home. "Tell her we're coming," he instructed, before exiting and heading into the lobby.

Instead, Frank numbly sat in the spot where Gerard once laid, thinking everything through. He tried to put his body in the same position Gerard was in a few moments earlier, tried to get his brain to understand what might have been going through Gerard's own.

Something about their sex talk must've set him off like this, unless this had to do with them having sex yesterday.

Eventually the vibrating stopped, and Frank tried to think back to last night. True, he had kind of tricked Gerard into sleeping with him, but Gerard had enjoyed it. Or maybe he hadn't, and was still in post-last-night's-sex mode, still feeling horrible for what happened. But the sex talk this morning was supposed to change all of that. Had his plan backfired?

Suddenly, it hit Frank like a ton of bricks. When they had their sex talk, they were talking about each other as if they actually had a future together. In Frank's eyes, they did. But maybe to Gerard, there was none.

That's where Gerard went wrong. Gerard could be let out for good behavior or something. Or even if his sentence was life, if he was good they could give him his own home/cell thing in the prison to allow his family to stay over if they visited. And if money played a role, as many things did, Frank would take care of that. He had seen such places on the Prison documentary that he watched, and it was possible for Gerard to live a decent life in prison—if they were never able to prove his innocence.

Whether or not Gerard might have liked it, his life behind bars and their relationship could coexist. Gerard had mentioned something to Frank before that he didn't want to tie him down once he went to jail. Was Gerard trying to actually initiate that and set it in stone since he only had about two days?

But Frank told him already that it didn't matter to him if he had to wait. He would wait, and if Gerard never got out, he would go and live with him there in one of those cell/houses they had. There was no reason to feel grim and try to end things. Frank wasn't going to let him end things. Not because of this.

* * *

"Another argument?" Dan asked, handing Gerard a cup of hot coffee. He had some soymilk in his refrigerator for Frank too, just in case he'd been the one to come down. He'd heard the two arguing, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. You would think he'd stop trying to listen in on them after last night, but no. "You guys seemed fine last night. And speaking of last night, you guys should really quiet down," he joked.

Gerard caught himself smirking as he remembered what happened. "Next time, I'll gag him for you," he chuckled, and Dan made retching sounds.

"Too much information," he said, shaking his head.

"Hey, you brought it up," Gerard replied, smirking. But he began sulking as soon he thought about how this morning had turned out.

"Gerard, I don't know if you really meant anything you said up there," Dan quietly started. He knew this was a touchy subject, and trying to calm Gerard down would get Gerard to snap at him like he did to Frank. That was something he didn't want. Then again, he honestly didn't want to see the two of them break up either. "But," Dan slowly continued, "I know that he loves you and that at some point, you did too."

"Frank is perfect, Dan," Gerard agreed sadly. "He's everything to me."

"So what was with that going on upstairs?" Dan incredulously asked.

"He's only eighteen, Dan!" Gerard cried. "His whole life is ahead of him."

"And you're twenty-two," Dan retorted. "I could say the same for you."

"I'm most probably going to be in jail for a long, long time; which is something I knew I'd be dealing with," Gerard explained. "But what I didn't count too much for was how I'd start feeling about him. Or maybe I didn't notice what he really meant to me until it was too late."

"Notice what?" Dan asked, slightly confused.

"I think I was in love with Frank for a while. Maybe not as soon as I saw him, but even then he was still on my mind, Dan. I thought nothing of it when I drew those pictures of him. But looking back on it now, it's obvious I was thinking _something _when I was drawing him. And I already planned on breaking it up with Frank because of how unfair this would be, but then he found _that_."

"Found what?"

Gerard sighed before he told Dan, "Frank found my sketchbook. And I knew the moment he'd see those pictures he'd see what I felt about him for the longest time. That's not what I need if I'm trying to make Frank let go of me. Instead, he'll sink deeper into it. I don't want Friday—

"Wait. What's Friday?" Dan asked nervously. Gerard looked at him funnily before he realized he hadn't told Dan anything yet.

"Friday's the day," he quietly admitted, rubbing his arm.

"So you and Frank will be gone by Friday?" Dan asked, trying to let the information sink in. That was two days away!

"Yeah," Gerard replied. "Sorry."

"No problem," Dan assured him, holding his chin. "I'm sure the two of you thought about it, then?" Quietly, Gerard nodded. "So that's good. As long as the both of you want it…I was actually going to advise that you try and hand yourself in anyway. The stuff on the television doesn't look so promising…"

"I know," Gerard mumbled. "That on its own is going to be hard to face. But I don't want Friday to be as hard for him as it will be for me; I want him to love again, experience the joy with someone else. But I'm going to be in jail all my life. The idea and memory of _Frank _is what will keep me alive over there. In other words, I'm allowed to remember what we had and cling to it; he isn't. But now he's found that book, and…"

"Oh," Dan said, once he understood what was running through Gerard's mind. He couldn't disagree with Gerard's motives, because he would have done the same. It was such a noble act that it screamed 'Gerard,' and he should have figured it out as soon as he heard Gerard tell Frank that he didn't love him.

"'_Oh_,' indeed," Gerard muttered sadly, rubbing his face. "I needed to come up with a way for him to hate me or something. Because if Frank's sulking at his house, I know I'll be sulking in jail. But if he's _happy_—even if it is with someone else—I'll be happy. It may sound crazy, but you'd understand if you saw the Frank Iero I was dealing with in August. He's changed so much now…"

There was a quiet click of a door and there stood Frank in the flesh, wearing a thin t-shirt and his boxers. His suspicions had been true! A small part of Frank was jumping up and down for joy that he'd been able to figure Gerard out, yet he was saddened by Gerard's thinking. He couldn't completely blame Gerard for wanting to break it off; he'd tried to the day before his birthday, which they both later on agreed wasn't a smart thing to do at all.

Quietly, Frank made his way to the end of the staircase, staring at the coffee in Gerard's hand. He couldn't help but smile at his boyfriend's obsession with the drink; it was almost one o'clock now and he'd already had coffee this morning. But his smile faltered when he saw the tears in Gerard's eyes. Tears immediately threatened to fall from Frank's eyes, but he blinked them away. Now was not the time for him to cry, but the time for him to make Gerard feel better. Then, Gerard wouldn't be crying and he'd have nothing there to make him cry.

Shakily, Frank opened his mouth and tried to boldly ask, "Then why don't you trust me?" But instead of sounding sure and confident in his question, he sounded hurt and scared. Gerard looked up at Frank with his watery eyes and tried to say something, but Frank cut him off.

"Gerard, don't worry about anything involving me," Frank said, trying another attempt to console his boyfriend. "Maybe me sitting at the house thinking of you _makes _me happy, not sulky."

"Stop lying," Gerard muttered, sniffling.

"I'm not," Frank said, coming down the stairs. "I promise you, I'm not."

Dan immediately busied himself with papers on his desk, trying not to let his curiosity get the better of him. Every time he did that, he ended up hearing more than he was supposed to. In fact, staying by the desk minding his own business wasn't enough, he was going to maybe leave the two of them alone, go into a place where he wouldn't see the two of them or hear them for that matter.

As Dan attempted to quietly leave the lobby, Frank continued. "Gerard, I heard everything. And I want you to know that your plan isn't going to work."

"It might've," Gerard mumbled.

"No, it wouldn't have," Frank said, at long last reaching the foot of the stairs. "Not in a gazillion-trillion-billion-million years."

"You never know," Gerard said, shrugging.

"Oh, I know," Frank replied, sitting on the chair next to Gerard. Softly, he held Gerard's knee as Gerard shifted in his seat to face him.

"So…what did your mother say?" Gerard finally asked, trying to change the subject. Frank shrugged, looking away.

"I didn't answer it," Frank admitted. "I was serious when I said I wanted to find out what was wrong with you first."

"Well, now you know," Gerard smartly told him. "Call."

"Gerard," Frank chastised him. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"You know what," Frank responded, folding his arms. But as the silence between them increased from a few seconds to two agonizing minutes, Frank stopped glaring at him and rested his arms. Taking a deep breath, Frank looked into Gerard's eyes and said, "I want you to promise me you won't break it up."

Gerard never responded, staring silently at Frank instead. It was then that Frank found his mistake and blushed. "Well, you technically could break it up any time you wanted, but not because of the reason you're thinking of right now," he said, feeling less like a controlling boyfriend.

"So if I tweaked it a bit—"

"No," Frank playfully glared. "That won't work or keep me away." Gerard gave Frank a pensive thought, pretending to think it over, and Frank slowly leaned in and kissed Gerard's cheek. "But now you can't say you didn't _try_, if that makes you feel better."

If Frank wasn't so quick to have Gerard smiling again, he would have noticed that Gerard hadn't actually agreed to anything yet. But since that was the case, Frank blindly accepted the fact that Gerard seemed at some type of ease again.

"I'm sorry I was being so stupid," Gerard apologized, stroking Frank's cheek as today's events replayed in his mind. He gently pulled Frank closer to kiss his forehead and give him a hug. Frank eagerly accepted the offer, smiling into Gerard's shirt as he felt Gerard's arms around him once more. Gerard was almost certain he'd have to find another way to let Frank down. It was very sweet of Frank to care as much as he did, but Gerard was serious when it came to Frank's future. He had already destroyed Mikey's; he didn't want to do the same to Frank.

"It's okay," Frank murmured, resting his head against Gerard's body. He was oblivious to Gerard's actual thoughts and started thinking to himself that this whole role of 'consoler' wasn't really bad at all. "I mean,_ I'm_ stupid all the time," he added sincerely, and Gerard chuckled.

"I'll love you forever Frank," he whispered to the young adult, and Frank blushed as his eyelids shut. Being in Gerard's grasp reminded him of how tired he actually was. He had woken up too early and it was already almost lunchtime. Gerard's moment of self-doubt had woken him up a bit, but now that everything—or so he thought—was back to normal, there was nothing more he wanted than to sleep. Playing the role of consoling boyfriend was tiring work.

Gerard glowed as he felt Frank protectively clutch him, tiredly murmuring "that's why I knew something was wrong" not too long before he surrendered to the sleep he'd been sacrificing this morning in order to make Gerard happy.

For five minutes, Frank remained in Gerard's hold as Gerard thought of the best time to call off their relationship. It was obvious his plan wouldn't work once Frank was around. Did that mean that he'd break up with Frank over the phone? How would he be able to do that anyway? The police would probably refuse to allow him to call Frank, or the Ieros just wouldn't answer. As for calling Frank's cell, the account could easily be changed as soon as they had Frank back. As tedious as this subject was, Gerard had to do it. He saw the look in Dan's eyes when he told him his plan; Dan understood.

"Is he sleeping already?" Dan whispered quietly from the room beside the lobby, interrupting Gerard's thoughts. Gerard nodded, staring lovingly at Frank as he tried to think of when would be the best time to let Frank down. Dan returned to his desk, checking out the young man snuggled in Gerard's chest. At first Dan thought that the spots he saw on Frank's arms had something to do with the lighting. But as he neared Frank, he realized that the 'spots' were bruises. Had Gerard hit him up there while they were arguing? He _did _hear a big _boooom _up there…that wasn't Frank, was it?

"What happened?" Dan asked, extremely concerned at the welts, bruises, and cuts on Frank's skin. Gerard merely grinned at him while he gently patted Frank's lower back. Frank gave a small grin, holding on tighter to Gerard as he emitted a happy moan.

"Last night happened," Gerard replied, smirking. As Frank cuddled deeper into Gerard's embrace, Dan made gagging noises yet again; he had to fix this curiosity problem of his.


	55. Inevitable

**Inevitable**

When Frank opened his eyes, Gerard was at the foot of the bed thinking. For a moment Frank forgot about today's little squabble and smiled up at Gerard. But it all came back to him as Gerard's smile disappeared back into the pensive state it was in before he noticed Frank was awake. Immediately, Frank knew what he had to do. Rubbing the sand from his eyes, Frank sat up and crawled over to the edge of the bed, above where Gerard sat on the floor.

"Hey baby," Frank murmured softly, and Gerard put up another brief smile.

"I packed everything already," Gerard said, patting Frank's foot as he got to the point. Frank huffed.

"W-what?" he asked. "I should have helped! You should have woken me up."

"That's okay," Gerard said. "You've helped me enough today, besides," he sweetly added, "I packed some stuff away for you to keep. As a 'thank you' for today, I guess."

"You didn't have to, hun," Frank said, sliding down the bed so that he was on the floor as well. When his butt finally hit the floor with a light _thud_, Frank gave Gerard a quick kiss on the cheek. Gerard gave a small smile as he allowed himself to sink further into his thoughts, feeling Frank snuggle against him. But if he knew what was on Frank's mind, Gerard would have known that he was not going to get his piece of mind tonight. Not on Frank's watch.

Frank gave a small smile before he let himself relax deeper into Gerard's embrace, already preparing to execute his first move. "You wanna hang out tonight?" he quietly asked, purposely interrupting Gerard's thoughts.

"And do what?" Gerard murmured.

"I dunno," Frank muttered. "Maybe…maybe we could just chill, you know. Listen to music, watch a movie…whatever you want."

"Honestly Frank, my nerves are gone," Gerard admitted. "I can't stop thinking about Friday. I feel like something wrong is going to happen."

"Like you handing yourself in?" Frank muttered dryly, before he caught himself.

"Whether you like it or not, that's my choice," Gerard said sternly.

"I know," Frank sullenly replied, sitting up. "I'm sorry."

"And by something 'wrong' happening," Gerard continued to explain, dismissing the apology, "I mean something doesn't feel right about it."

"Did you expect to 'feel right' by handing yourself in?" Frank snorted, raising a brow. "I'm slightly confused here."

"Just…forget about it, Frank," Gerard angrily murmured. He should have known better than to try and reason it through with Frank. Frank didn't understand him. Dan did. Maybe he could talk it over with Dan. It was eating away at his mind all those hours Frank had been asleep. And it was the first time he was voicing the thoughts aloud. He didn't need to be told that his thoughts were stupid, or that he was being stupid. What he needed was some input. And if Frank wasn't going to give that to him, he'd just leave for Dan. Rising with his mind made, Gerard muttered, "Forget I said anything."

Frank sighed as he scooted over to Gerard, mentally slapping himself as he tried to mend the wound he just gave Gerard. He reached to hug him and Gerard stayed to receive it, although his heart wasn't in it. "Gerard, I'm sorry," Frank tried again. "I'm still kinda out of it. Please…don't go?"

Frank looked up into Gerard's eyes and Gerard could see that Frank was lost and confused. He couldn't leave him, not even if he was just going downstairs for a minute or two to clear his head. How could he leave Frank here? Who cared if he needed to clear his head for a few minutes? Frank needed him, and he needed Frank. Besides, Frank apologized for his response. He had, after all, just started the business of listening and consoling. He should have given him a break.

Boy. Gerard needed to work on this if he was ever going to ditch Frank on Friday without making it an unbearable task for them both.

"I'm sorry babe," Frank continued murmuring, kissing Gerard's temple. Gerard closed his eyes, biting down his sobs as he started crying. "I'm being stupid again."

"Frank, don't—"

"Shh," Frank lightly demanded, rubbing Gerard's shoulder. "Something's still bothering you, baby. What is that?"

"It's okay, Frank."

"Gerard," Frank demanded, giving him a worried look. "Spill it out."

"Well, it's…it's just my parents," Gerard finally admitted as he held on to Frank. "They haven't called me or anything."

So Gerard was worried about his parents, Frank realized, grimacing. If Gerard felt this way about his parents, then he knew without a doubt that it was uncharted territory when he had used it against Gerard last night. Oh, that must have been a low blow then…and he felt extremely guilty about it.

"They…they know your number?" Frank asked, trying to be supportive, even though he used them against Gerard earlier.

"Well…no," he admitted, sniffling. "But, this is Mikey's funeral. They love that kid to death. Yet I haven't heard anything from them at all, only from your mother. Why haven't they tried to contact me? Even if they don't know my number, they have obviously been speaking to your mother. Why didn't they ask her for your number or something?"

"Maybe they were trying to reach you," Frank pondered. "But by television or radio, answering questions and advertising for it." Frank continued to rub Gerard until his sobbing subsided. "If they didn't favor you, then maybe…Um, let me put this another way," Frank tried. "Maybe they don't want to come to terms with the fact that their eldest son is a…whatever they've been saying on TV. Hearing your voice is maybe too much for them, you know? They are probably on the television or internet saying stuff to you there. We haven't exactly been listening to those things…"

"You're right," Gerard finally said, some life coming back to his eyes. "Could we put on the TV, babe?" he asked. Usually, Frank was the one watching television, only for Gerard to come and shut it off claiming that what was being said was depressive. Now he was the one who wanted it. Frank would have found this the perfect time to crack a joke, but Gerard was seriously in a bad mood. He didn't think now was the time to make things worse. Slowly, Frank headed toward the television and pressed the button to turn it on. Fuzzy and unclear voices were heard as soon as a picture came into focus on the dark and dull box.

_ "…this Friday. Rupert, back to you?"_

"Thank you Francis," the guy named Rupert (Frank assumed) replied. _"In other events today, there was word that Frank Iero and Gerard Way were seen around the Cedar Grove area. The police got the tip about a couple days ago from a bank teller that worked at NVE Bank in Cedar Grove. She says that Frank Iero had withdrawn a large sum of money and said he 'owed a friend.' Law enforcement officials believe that the friend he 'owed' money to was Gerard Way."_

"I-I-I'm sorry," Frank murmured, blushing furiously. Gerard simply said nothing, biting his lower lip as he tensed in Frank's grip. Had they truly figured them out? Gerard wondered. He couldn't believe he never thought anything of it the day that Frank had come back to him. Maybe he was too happy for the fact that Frank was back, or too lust-ridden to care about what might have happened. Not once had he asked Frank about who he encountered, and he'd thought it was irrelevant because nothing had happened.

At least, not until now.

_ "He seemed so scared,"_ Frank heard the woman state, and he looked to see the bank teller from before. Instead of looking at her with soft pleading eyes, he was glaring at her, urging her to stop speaking. But of course she wouldn't; this was taped, and anything she had to say would most probably be said._ "He said he needed the money because he owed it. He didn't seem happy at all, and I was scared for him. He didn't even want me to alert his parents."_

_ "What did the Ieros have to say for this?" _Rupert asked, as if reading the minds of Gerard Way and Frank Iero. Tauntingly, Rupert reported, _"Here was Mrs. Iero a couple days ago upon hearing the news."_

_ "I know where they are,"_ she said simply, smirking. Frank's mother was wearing her designer Chanel clothes, and her sunglasses were perched perfectly on top of her head. Her lips were covered perfectly with lipstick, and her eyelashes extended, thanks to the mascara. She looked filthy rich, and the way she carried herself made her even seem rich. Frank hadn't noticed that was what he'd been living with his whole life. Beside her there was a young man standing, smoking a cigarette. Although his hair covered most of his face, Frank knew who that fucker was anywhere. And he, too, was dressed to impress. Just by looking at the two, Frank got the impression that whoever it was they were looking for was important.

No wonder the media ate up all the attention. And no wonder Gerard's eyes doubled in size when he saw Frank's mother for the first time in months.

_"And he'll either turn himself in,"_ Mrs. Iero continued, shrugging, _"or we'll have to do it the hard w_ay."

"That must have been after she told us about the funeral," Frank murmured sadly. Again, there was no response from Gerard. Instead, he remained silent as he soaked in the image before him.

That woman on the screen…the way she looked, carried herself, and spoke screamed that she was worth a whole fucking lot. And he had kidnapped her son. That _couldn't_ be good news. Sure, he'd seen her briefly here and there…but she had been working then. Now, while she was out and could dress the way she wanted and felt fit…Gerard knew he was doomed.

And for the first time (thanks to the immense doubt that filled his head), Gerard could actually picture Frank as the 'spoiled rich kid' they always joked about.

_ "How sure are you about that?"_ a reporter asked her, and she gave a small giggle.

_ "I've got a new car waiting for him in the parking lot,"_ she said. _"I'm _that _sure."_

Frank's eyes widened at the sound of that, and Gerard looked sadly at him. "You wanna go home _now_?" he caught himself snapping at Frank, sounding pitiful. Frank glared at Gerard in amazement as he shook his head.

"Gerard, you know me better than anyone else."

"I've only been with you for four months now," Gerard snapped back. "Fucking bullshit."

"The most my dad's ever spent with me was a day. My mother…maybe a week," Frank said. "So yes, those 'bullshit' four months actually mean something to me."

"Pete's known you for three years," Gerard muttered, and Frank bit his tongue. It hurt him that Gerard said that, but it was said. Besides, he'd hurt Gerard more than he realized yesterday when he spoke about his parents, so he wasn't in any position to judge. Instead of crying, Frank took a deep breath and replied to Gerard's statement the best way he could.

"Pete and Tina…and maybe some other people," he added, after a second thought, "might have known my body for three years. But no one except you can claim to know _all _of me. You know that. I won't let anyone else."

As the news report went on to explain what was going on between Pete and Frank before Gerard stepped into the picture, Gerard and Frank were arguing yet again about their relationship. "Look at your mother, Frank!" Gerard demanded. "You…you have her eyes! Her eyebrows! Hell, you have her lips even. You're just shorter and you have a dick. I see you where she is, Frank. I don't see you here, with me."

"Oh really?" Frank asked, scoffing. "Well who _do _you see me with? Enlighten me."

"You belong with someone of your status," Gerard said, sounding defeated. "Your mother isn't a bad looking woman, Frank. And you take right after her. Hell, your dad may seem stern, but his looks aren't bad either. They have the looks and the money, and so should you."

"I don't want the money!" Frank said, without paying attention to the first half of Gerard's statement. When he realized what he just sounded like, he rephrased his statement. "I don't want the looks, either Gerard."

"It goes nicely with you though," Gerard reiterated. "You need someone…you should be with someone that has the money, the looks, and the time to take you out to places you'll enjoy."

"You have all the money I could possibly want," Frank said. "You have the looks Gerard. Fucking hell, what do you think you're saying? I don't have eyes for anyone else. I don't want anyone else."

There was a silence between them that was filled with the dull noise from the TV talking about Pete and Frank's friendship/possible relationship. As Gerard stared at the image of Frank and Pete together on the screen, Frank nearly choked on his spit. And he got into a coughing spazz when Gerard looked back at him with a look Frank knew all too well.

"Don't you even fucking saying it," Frank demanded, his eyes now thin slits. "I swear, Gerard…one word about me and him and I'll fucking blow up."

With that, Gerard didn't say anything. But there was no need to. Frank had gotten his message, and that was all he needed. Instead of sitting in silence, waiting for one of them to start accusing the other one of something else, Gerard raised the volume up higher in an attempt to hear what was being said. Frank remained in his seat, trying to control his breathing. He hadn't had a breathing attack in so long, and he didn't want one to start now.

As he glared at the television screen with Gerard, Frank couldn't help but feel something funny was up with the funeral as well. He wasn't sure what made him feel funny, because his mother was simply attending the funeral, and thought they should drop by. If anything, what Gerard was thinking was far more plausible than his own suspicions about his mother. How could he be worried his mother was tricking him? If anyone's mother was tricking anyone that would have to be Gerard's mother. Only she would have the power to change plans with the funeral. Not his mother, and thankfully not Pete.

But why did he still feel like something was off?

_ "Mrs. Iero has given us her thanks, as well as those who were concerned and followed the story. She claims that by Friday or possibly even tomorrow night, the nightmare will be over. However, there is still controversy surrounding the kidnapping. If you all remember correctly, Frank turned 18 on Halloween. Some of you questioned the kidnap, and here's what some viewers had to say about the case."_ Rupert, the broadcaster, wasn't bidding well with Frank; he badly wanted to punch his face in by this point, but there was no possible way that would happen. Instead, his glare at the screen intensified.

"Gerard, you wanna change the channel?" Frank pathetically tried; his voice was so small, and he sounded so fragile in comparison to how he'd sounded a moment ago. But Gerard wouldn't have it, and he grunted when Frank tried to make a reach for the remote. Defeated, Frank listened to the statements on the television.

_"I say we leave it alone,"_ one viewer stated, shrugging. _"Maybe this 'kidnap' thing isn't so one-sided. He's an adult now."_

_"I don't even really think the Gerard dude did anything wrong,"_ one man said, taking a sip of his drink. _"They're two guys; this was probably some huge thing that started out of nothing. I'm sure they didn't even know that they are being looked for."_

Hey, this wasn't so bad. It seemed like the rest of the world saw things his way. And if that was the case, maybe there was more hope for Gerard than Gerard had realized. Frank couldn't help it as the smirk on his face grew. But it soon disappeared after the next following statements.

_ "I don't know what that Gerard guy is doing, messing with the Ieros,"_ one person bluntly put it.

_"The guy's royally screwed!" _one man exclaimed_. "Molesting the kid wasn't enough. Kidnapping the kid and demanding ransom wasn't enough. And he killed his own f***ing brother. He's not going to see sunlight for a very long time."_

_ "Things aren't looking too good for Gerard right now," _one man admitted_. "I would know; I'm a lawyer, and I've worked with tons of cases that are similar…except for the fact that it's not every day you deal with an Iero."_

_"Gerard's being selfish," _one girl stated, pointing her finger at the screen_. "Maybe this was an 'elopement' of some kind. But he's being greedy. Forcing someone to feel something or do something is wrong in every sense—"_

Frank immediately changed the television channel—without seeking permission this time—as Gerard glared at him.

"I fucking knew it," Frank's boyfriend muttered, motioning to the screen. "I'm not the only one who thought so, and Dan understood what I was talking about."

"Well, too bad they aren't me," Frank replied evenly, before shutting the television off. "Gerard, we shouldn't be listening to this shit."

"Oh, but we should," Gerard said, putting it on after he grabbed the remote. "If you were paying attention at all, you would have heard what your mother said."

"Since when do I listen to her?" Frank asked, scoffing.

"If you had, we wouldn't be here."

"We already went over this," Frank snapped. "I said drop it, Gerard! Fucking drop it! I would have spoken to you anyway, okay? Nothing would have stopped that. It might have taken a while, but I would have tried finding you."

"But you would have failed," Gerard said.

"I said fucking _drop it_," Frank seethed. "Jeez. What the fuck did my mother say that pissed you off? It's not like she said anything new."

"That's where you're wrong," Gerard said, changing the channel and acting as if Frank hadn't done anything. Sure, they weren't on the same channel as before, but where _wasn't _there information about the two of them on television? It wasn't long before Gerard found yet another interview with Frank's family members.

_ "And so how do you feel about Frank being gone?"_

"It's been really hard on us all," Frank heard Pete say, and he looked up into the television as Gerard glared at Pete.

"Gerard? Maybe another channel would be better—"

"Shut up, Frank," Gerard warned him, eyes on the television. Frank kept quiet as Pete continued talking, but it wasn't long until Frank decided he'd give it another try.

"Gerard…?"

"Frank, _shh_." Gerard put up the volume on the television and drowned out Frank's voice.

_"So…this started with Gerard taking advantage of him," _the interviewer asked_. "Am I right?"_

_"Yeah," _Pete said_. "I was too late."_

_"But weren't you good friends with Frank?"_

_ "We got into a fight before Gerard came into the picture," _Pete said._ "And to be blunt with you, Gerard was giving him what I wouldn't, so…"_

_"Are you insinuating that there might've been more between you and Frank—"_

_ "I don't kiss and tell," _Pete said blushing_. "But…Frank and I love each other in ways people will never understand."_

"What the fuck?" Frank's eyes widened in disgust. "Gerard, please…please change the fucking channel."

This time, Gerard didn't argue.  


* * *

  
The night had gone by awkwardly. Gerard sat at the foot of the bed, watching news channel after news channel before he concluded no one really knew what was up. Everything was estimated with some idea of things but nothing was tangible or solid. If they wanted tangible and true facts, they'd have to speak to Mrs. Iero. But according to the rest of the world, the two of them learned that Gerard was a wanted man because he was a prime suspect in the murder of his brother, as well as a child molester and kidnapper. And Frank was not only the child of the Ieros who was really in love with his best friend Pete, but a confused and lost soul that Gerard took—excuse me, is currently taking—advantage of.

Fucking dandy. That was just what Frank needed to make his night.

Frank remained in bed, blankly staring at the clock on the wall. Today had sucked too much for his liking. There wasn't anything about today that he appreciated besides the fact that he and Gerard had a sex talk. Damn him for speaking of their future! He should have known better. Maybe the day would have been better if he'd spoken about sex in general, or maybe the idea of sex. But it was too late to take that back.

Quietly, Frank sighed as he turned to his side and saw Gerard staring up at the ceiling instead. The two hadn't spoken to each other for the rest of the night, and it was already becoming Day Three. In other words, Frank would be technically correct to mention that tomorrow was 'the day.'

Deciding that it had to be said, Frank opened his mouth and mumbled, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Gerard simply asked, still staring at the ceiling.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you," Frank said, shaking his head. Gerard shrugged.

"But you did," he continued, unblinking. "And I yelled back."

"So?"

"So we're even."

"It's not about being even," Frank stated in a pleading voice. "It's about the fact that we have maybe 36 hours together, and I don't want to spend those hours arguing with you."

"We're not arguing."

"Yes, we are," Frank said. "We are. We're snapping at each other."

"Well I'm sorry I can't keep composure when it comes to me getting my ass thrown in jail!" Gerard replied evenly. He finally looked at Frank and shook his head. "All that time, I was quiet, keeping my thoughts to myself, trying not to freak out. But I can't do it any more! I don't know how you do it, Frank, but I can't keep it all inside any more!"

Here they went again. But this time, Frank refrained himself from yelling back and held Gerard's shoulder. "Then don't, Gerard," Frank urged him. "Remember what I told you two days ago about your anger and frustration. Share it with me."

"But I can't," Gerard sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "I can't because I don't want to."

"Gerard—"

"Frank, I don't want to go alone," he cried, chest rattling. He turned away and gripped his pillow preferring to let it comfort him instead of Frank. Like a lost child, he clung on to the pillow and Frank tried to console him, patting his hair as he cooed what Gerard thought to be sweet nothings in his ear, like, "You won't be alone" or "I'll be there."

"Before, I had Mikey," Gerard said, sniffling as he buried his head into the pillow. Frank badly wished it had been his chest Gerard had sought comfort in, but it wasn't. He could live with that. If the pillow made Gerard happy, then he had to be happy, right?

"And when I didn't have Mikey, I had 'customers.' But even then," Gerard went on, "I had someone waiting for me, someone who needed me…"

"And I don't need you?" Frank questioned, trying to kiss Gerard's forehead. "Baby—"

"Not once they throw me in jail, you won't," Gerard muttered, sniffling again as he moved away from Frank.

"Shhhh, Gee," Frank murmured, rocking Gerard slowly back and forth. It was a struggle, but he managed to wrap his hands around his boyfriend. "Shhhh. You don't know what you're saying." He repeated that until Gerard's sobbing died down and he was merely whimpering.

"I'm scared, Frankie," Gerard finally spoke. "I feel like once I go to that funeral, not only will Mikey be dead, but you'll be dead too. Part of me still doesn't want to believe he's dead, but…I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize," Frank insisted, wiping Gerard's tears away.

"No, I am," Gerard said, getting out of Frank's gasp. It was a struggle, but of course Gerard won. "I…I probably sounded so stupid."

"No you didn't," Frank chided him.

"I mean, I'm not going to be alone," Gerard continued, forcing a scoff to emit from his throat. "I'll have a cell mate, won't I?"

"You'll have me," Frank reiterated, but Gerard shrugged him off.

"And you'll be off having the time of your life with some bachelor…but you'd be happy. And you being happy makes me happy."

"Gerard—"

"Shh, it's okay Frank," Gerard said, returning his attention to the pillow. He held it securely instead of Frank, like he usually did. That hurt Frank a little, but he was determined not to cry. Gerard was very off today, and maybe a pillow was all he needed. As long as it gave Gerard a piece of mind, he was all right.

* * *

Quietly, Frank asked Dan for the hundredth time if every thing was okay. He needed to make sure everything went as planned, or else there went his last chance to fix things up with Gerard. To be quite honest, Gerard was scaring him now. Gerard was always on top of things; he knew what he was doing. But now, he was lost. And it was Frank's job to make him feel better. He, unlike Gerard, only had one chance at this, since Gerard would be going off to jail soon. He couldn't screw this up.

Dan nodded, pointing at his cell phone that he had just used for nearly an hour now to ensure that Frank got what he needed. "The dude fucking owes me," Dan said. "There's no way he'd cop out." Frank stared long and hard at the phone, pondering what could possibly go wrong. He wanted to make sure there was no way it'd happen.

"He wouldn't tell, would he?" Frank asked.

"Who, Bob?" Dan asked, chuckling. "He won't tell a soul. I promise."

"So we can get the car by tomorrow morning then?" Frank pressed, questioning him.

"Well aren't you persistent?" Dan mocked Frank, but Frank's eyebrows remained raised. Quietly, Dan emitted a 'yeah.'

"And it won't be parked right outside the motel, right?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Dan asked, slightly confused.

"Well, in case we leave tomorrow," Frank said, "I don't want Gerard to know about it. He'll just freak out before we step foot outside. Could you, I don't know…leave it somewhere by the lake out back?"

Slowly, Dan nodded. Frank had some weird requests. Did he think something was up? "Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Positive, Dan," Frank replied. "I'm just thinking about everything and anything that could happen between now and Friday, y'know? Gerard isn't feeling well…" and my gut's telling me something is off.

Dan gave a brief nod, as if it mattered anyway, and redialed Bob's number to tell him where to drop off the car. Dan knew that Bob was going to complain, but in the end the two of them agreed on a place where Bob could drop the keys and Frank could pick up the car. If worst came to worse and Gerard couldn't drive for whatever reason, Frank would drive them.

"So he's going to drop it off at the corner of Dert and Levy," Dan said, shutting his cell phone.

"Dert and Levy," Frank repeated, writing it down on a napkin. "Got it."

"Don't you have a PDA or something?" Dan questioned out of curiosity. From the past news appearances Frank's mother had made, Dan was sure Frank had about five. Yet all the while that he lived at the motel, Frank had never demonstrated anything to show that he was rich.

Besides that one day he came back with a shitload of cash. That was epic.

"Left them at home," he admitted, and Dan smirked. "I don't really use 'em." Dan's smirk grew because he was right; Frank did have more than one. He had said 'them.'

"…so then I just go straight on Route 4 North and break off at exit 16A?" Frank asked, trying to recall the information Bob had given the two of them thirty minutes ago. Dan nodded.

"And then you stay right until the sixth traffic light, and you make a left on Dermurst," he finished for Frank. Frank quickly scribbled it down before he threw Dan a grateful smile.

"Thank you so fucking much, Dan," Frank said, giving a relieved grin before he flipped out his cell phone and rapidly punched in a few numbers.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Dan asked, and Frank shrugged.

"Slept all day. I can't sleep," he admitted, and Dan watched in silence as Frank paced around and bit his lip whilst scratching his head; Dan read the anxious movements as an indicator that whatever Frank was planning to talk about had to do with Friday as well, and Frank snapped his phone shut.

"How's Gerard?" Dan quietly asked. He heard them arguing up there. It woke him up, actually. And if that didn't do it, Frank stomping down the stairs did.

"He's just…I guess everything's caught up with him, you know?" Frank admitted, and for the first time during the whole sixty minutes Frank had been down with him, Dan saw a tear escape Frank's efforts to remain stoic.

Frank sniffled before he continued. "And I just have a funny feeling about all of this, handing ourselves in," Frank replied. "I mean, it's my mother…that's the only thing that's stopping me. My mother is attending the funeral, which means that the Ways are most probably involved. And if the Ways are involved, there's no trick. But something tells me that Pete wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world. And if he's involved, I'm on guard and forced to think something funny is up, even when the people planning it aren't involved with him. It's like he's made me paranoid, stupid fucker."

"There's nothing wrong about packing to be careful," Dan agreed. "If I didn't know you, I would have said that Pete was your best friend the way he talks about you."

"The guy's a master at lying."

"Does Gerard know about your uneasiness…?" Dan finally asked.

"Gerard?" Frank asked, scoffing. "The hell he doesn't. I didn't want to say anything to make him more upset. He feels as if it's his parents that are scheming against him, and already has suspicions of his own. I don't think that's possible. They haven't even kept in contact with him for years. Why would they all of a sudden pop up? But he feels that the only thing that will be 'off' about him going to the funeral is seeing his folks. I think the idea of him turning himself in is off, but what do I know?"

The sadness in Frank's voice was too thick to ignore, and Dan tried to help him understand Gerard's thinking so he hopefully wouldn't be as sad. "Frank, you understand why he's doing it though…right?"

"Does that even matter?" he bitterly asked, avoiding Dan's gaze and playing with his phone.

"He loves you," Dan said. "He's just…lost as to how he'll manage to give you up. Lost as to how he'll gather the will to essentially say to the world, 'I love him, but I want him to experience happiness and love without me. So take him.'"

"And I've told him that he doesn't need to worry about that," Frank finished, glaring. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But Frank, don't you see?" Dan asked. "It's either you go that route—no matter how painful it will be—or you'll stay at home being a bitter person. He doesn't want you to be bitter."

"Well this is making me bitter, so I guess his plan just sucks because there's no win situation for him," Frank snapped. "I'll deal with my demons on my own. All he has to do is relax and enjoy his last few days—well, hours now—without wasting his energy worrying about me."

Dan sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Gerard's always worried about you. Even you must admit that."

"But this time, I want to be there for him," Frank said, tearing up again. "Th-the relationship isn't one-sided. H-he needs to kn-know that." He gave a sniffle before he wiped his eyes. "Do you know what he tried to fucking do in there?" he asked Dan, his voice raising a few octaves. Before Dan could answer, Frank continued. "He tried to say that I would be better off with Pete than with him."

Dan had nothing to say to that, so instead he just sucked in his breath and shook his head. That was not a smart move on Gerard's part. He had to admit. "He's just lost," he tried, and Frank shook his head.

"Even when I think he's far away and out of the picture, Pete manages to come back Dan," Frank sobbed, holding his head. "Everywhere I go, he's there. He's been in my life for too long, he's infected the lives of those I care about. He's even taken Gerard from me, Dan. I hate him. I…"

The phone remained in Frank's hand and began vibrating. Frank tried to compose himself, clearing his throat. "I just need to be sure that he won't be there," Frank said, running his fingers through his hair as he took deep breaths. "I can't see him at the funeral. I can't."

"Frank?" Dan asked wearily. Hearing Frank talk like that and watching him tug at his hair made Frank seem as out of it as Gerard was today. The strain and pressure was working on the couple, Dan unfortunately noted. "Frank," he repeated.

"Wh-what?" Frank looked up, eyes red. His hand was a mere inches from his face; a mere few seconds away from answering his mother's phone call and demanding the answers he wanted to his questions. After one, two, three rings, Dan still hadn't said what he wanted yet. Tiredly, Frank attempted to flip the phone open and Dan then decided to speak.

"You…you're not still scared of him, are you?" Dan asked quietly.

The object in his hand continued vibrating wildly, and Frank took that as his escape. Without giving Dan another look, he headed for the bathroom to answer his call. Scared was the last thing on the list.

Fucking pissed was more like it.

* * *

"Ma?" Pete heard Frank ask.

After many months of the silent treatment, Frank was talking to him again. And though Pete had to admit that Frank's voice had changed a bit, he still found it sexy. Oh, how he had missed his voice!

"Hey Frankie," Pete replied calmly, grinning. "How's it been?"

"P-Pete?" he stuttered, the surprise evident in his tone. "Wh-what are you doing on Ma's phone?"

"Talking to you," Pete replied, smirking. "How's it been? Too long, I say," he babbled on. "Boy. I almost didn't believe Irene when she told me your phone was still working."

"Give the phone to Ma," Frank demanded, sounding bold. That was completely unexpected, not to mention a complete turn on for Pete, and he 'oooh'ed.

"So demanding," he purred, smirking. "If you want to cut the foreplay and get right into it…"

"Give the phone to my mother, Peter," Frank snapped.

"No," Pete said, chuckling.

"No?" Frank asked incredulously.

"And since when did you call me 'Peter'? What happened to 'Petey'?"

"Give the phone to my fucking mother," Frank reiterated.

"Frankie, baby," Pete started. "If you haven't realized, it's one in the morning. She's sleeping."

"Wake her up."

"I'd rather not," Pete said. "Besides…whatever you were going to tell her, you can tell me. I'll take a message."

"I want answers to things you wouldn't know anything about—"

"Like the funeral on Friday?" Pete asked. He smirked as he heard Frank hold his breath on the other line. "Try me," he whispered.

"Don't mess with me today. You'll fucking regret it," Frank warned him. "I swear you will."

"Keep your pants on," Pete chuckled. "Don't get into another one of your breathing hissy fits over this."

"I haven't had any since I've gone," Frank murmured proudly. Although, he hadn't noticed the significance of that until he uttered it aloud. Those breathing attacks…there was a point in his life that he thought he'd never be rid of them. Yet, here he was now, telling Pete that he hadn't experienced them for a good four months.

Pete's smile faltered, but he picked it right back up as he shrugged. "So?" he finally asked, acting un-phased. "You and Gerard ready to turn yourselves in?"

"We're ready to go to Mikey's funeral, yes," Frank stated, correcting the statement. "Why would you care, anyway? It's not like you're gonna be there."

Frank held his tongue, waiting for Pete's response. What Pete said next, Frank convinced himself, would determine whether or not he'd go. Well, he'd probably go anyway, but what Pete said determined whether he'd put up a fight with Gerard or not.

Pete could detect this, so he did the only thing he always did; he lied. "Even if I won't see you there, I'll be waiting for you to come home," Pete replied, giving another shrug. "Besides, I have some…other business to attend to. You'll see me soon enough, though. Don't worry; I want us to fuck again soon, too."

At least he was telling the truth there.

"Fuck off," Frank snarled, and Pete chuckled.

"Watch your language you bad, bad boy," he warned Frank. "I'll have to teach you a lesson for that."

"And I'll teach you a lesson of my own," Frank evenly replied, glaring.

"Ah, Frank," Pete murmured, smiling. "I've missed you."

"I haven't," Frank snorted.

"Really?" Pete asked. "Then why did you call?"

"I called my mother's phone," Frank snapped. "I have no idea what business you have answering her phone, but really: tell me what I want to fucking know."

"And if I'm so horrible, why would you bother to speak to me again?" Pete asked. "Why get any information from me at all? Is Frankie pussy-whipped?"

"Because he's worth it," Frank replied, snapping. "And I don't care if that makes me 'whipped' or whatever you just called it." Frank waved his hands in the air despite the fact Pete couldn't see them. "By the way, Gerard doesn't have a vagina last time I checked."

"He's worth it?" Pete asked, scoffing. "How is he 'worth it'?"

"You'd never understand." Frank simply stated.

"Try me."

"Well thanks to a certain someone," Frank replied, rubbing it in. "My life sucked before; but he's changed that."

"Well, your life is about to suck a whole lot more," Pete cackled.

"Oh?" asked Frank. There was nothing Pete could tell him that would wreck his night more than it already was. "And why's that?"

"You're going to be found out if you don't go to that funeral," Pete rephrased himself, still smirking on the other end.

"How?"

"How?" Pete asked incredulously. "I guess it's safe to say you two haven't paid much attention to the news."

"Just spill it," Frank demanded, and Pete chuckled. Nothing was funny when it came to the news and the lies Pete spread nationally.

"Okay, okay," Pete said, sounding like an excited teenage girl. "You guys have until tomorrow night to come…or at least get ready to come. And I don't mean sexually, Frankie. Get your head out of the gutter."

"I swear, Pete," Frank vowed, shaking his head. "If you don't stop…"

"In other words, you're going to see me in two days regardless of what you do," Pete continued, speaking over Frank. "So you either go to the funeral with Gerard, or you surrender."

"And how would surrendering work?" Frank questioned out of curiosity. Was there more than one option, preferably one that both he and Gerard felt comfortable with?

"Aw," Pete cooed. "Is there twobble with wittle Fwankie and Gewawd?"

"Shut up and tell me what I want to fucking know," Frank threatened. "Or else I guess that option of me seeing you sooner than expected will never happen."

"It's been on channel 55 all day," Pete stated nonchalantly. "Police found a lead stating that you guys were in Cedar Grove and so they're gonna crash by your place."

"They only said it was a possibility," Frank said, now worried.

"Oh Frankie," Pete cooed. "You're still as naïve as ever. The dumb ass cops who say they might check up on you, or me—the one who's telling you right now that something's gonna happen tomorrow; who are you going to believe?" Frank pondered the choice; it was a lose-lose situation.

"Fuck," Frank finally muttered, eyes completely closed in concentration.

"We _will _soon enough," Pete joked, and Frank lost his cool.

"We will _never _fuck again, Pete," Frank promised him, hissing. "I'm not as stupid as I used to be, nor am I hung up over you like Tina is."

"Well if I were you, I'd take that back," Pete taunted Frank. "You're going to be dealing with me soon."

"Fuck off," Frank snarled.

"You know," Pete continued. "That day you left I was actually going to use lube on you."

"Where's the service?" Frank snapped in response, ignoring Pete. If what Pete said was true, he didn't have time to waste. The sooner he found out where the funeral service was, the shorter their conversation would be.

"I wonder if you've actually come to hate lube now," Pete went on, continuing his own conversation and ignoring Frank's question. "Gerard sure does."

"Where is the service?" Frank demanded to know once more.

"I know all of Gerard's little sex secrets," Pete went on. "Don't think whatever you had with Gerard was special, Frankie. _Ever_. Every time you suck on Gerard's nipple, know that my mouth was already there. Every time you kiss his lips, know that not too long ago it was _my _tongue he let into his mouth. And when he's fucking you, Frankie—"

"Don't call me that," Frank interrupted angrily, but Pete ignored him.

"—remember it's _me _that he fucked first!" Pete said in a singsong voice, in an attempt to frustrate Frank. "I'm sorry, but the truth hurts doesn't it, babe?"

"He never loved you," Frank said, his voice small. "Never."

"What, and he loves you?" Pete asked. "Frank, you don't know what love is. If you did, you would have stayed in your room that night, instead of running off so he could fuck you like the horny little slut you are."

Pete's attempts to frustrate Frank were working, especially that last statement. But instead of letting that get to his head, Frank simply took a deep breath and shocked both himself and Pete.

"He did," Frank replied truthfully. The other end of the line was deathly silent now, and Frank grabbed the opportunity to shut Pete up. "He fucked me long and hard," he continued, giving Pete a taste of his own medicine. If anyone was going to be disgusted, it was going to be Pete, because today couldn't get any worse for Frank. And he sure as hell wasn't going to let Pete's taunting get him down. "Is that what you want to hear? Or do you want a more vivid picture? How about 'he rammed his dick so far up my ass that I screamed and I fucking loved it'?"

The line was quiet for about a minute more before Frank finally decided he might be able to get some information from Pete. He never thought he'd end up speaking to Pete that way, and to hear himself say it came across as a shock to him. But at least now Pete knew that he was serious, and that he was a changed person from before.

Opening his mouth, Frank finally broke the silence as he demanded, "Now I'm going to ask for the third and final time, Pete: where is the service?"

Only, Frank never got his answer. Instead, the phone line went dead.


	56. Party Crasher

**Party Crasher**

Pete hadn't slept the whole night.

Every time he stared at the cell phone sitting on Mrs. Iero's nightstand, Frank's bold new attitude threatened to make him snap. He hadn't been prepared for that in the slightest.

I screamed and I fucking loved it, repeated numerous times in his head; he pathetically tried to erase it, willing Frank's voice to go away. True, he had badly wished to hear it before, but now? Now he wanted it gone. Besides, he owed Frank now. Frank had wanted to keep him off guard; it was only fair to do the same, no?

In that respect, Pete was going to make him fucking pay for uttering such words. What did Gerard have that he didn't? If Frank wanted to scream, then Pete would make him scream. Fucking cunt. He couldn't stay behind Gerard forever, and he was going to learn how such defiance was consequential.

Pete was interrupted from his thoughts as soon as Mrs. Iero entered. She gave him a welcoming smile as she quietly closed the door to the room and settled down on the bed again. She had awoken and gone down to the breakfast downstairs, but he had stayed in the room, supposedly calling to check up on how things were back at home.

Yeah right.

And when she offered to wait for him, he said he'd come down on his own; she shouldn't feel the need to worry about him after all. Quietly, she could sense Pete was still as uneasy as he was this morning, she asked , "So how was your breakfast?"

Pete shrugged as his mind remained elsewhere. "Okay," he finally muttered.

"Well…I thought it was delicious," she said, smiling yet again. "Then again, now that Frank is coming back _everything _tastes amazing, huh?"

Unlike Mrs. Iero expected, Pete remained silent. He was contemplating on what he should do, or on what kind of vibe to send Frank's mother. Part of him didn't want to relay to her that he was pretty pissed at him: part of him didn't want her to know. This was his problem, and he'd deal with this on his own. The punishment was Frank's to suffer. Oh, how he'd make him suffer. He already had some things at his place, didn't he? Slowly, a scoff escaped his throat and Irene looked at him questioningly.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly as her smile faded, sitting up. "You haven't seemed like yourself all morning." Not only that, but she had mentioned something about Frank and Pete seemed un-reactive, which was a first.

"I'm fine," Pete lied. "It's just…"

"You spoke to Frank?" Irene asked, filling in the silence. Pete's eyes widened.

"How did you…?"

"Just because I'm not as young and tech-savvy as you kids nowadays doesn't mean that I don't know how to navigate my phone, Pete," she said, chuckling. "I checked to see if he called yesterday and I saw that I supposedly had a conversation with him. I'm sure you know all about that?"

"I'm sorry," Pete said, feigning guilt. She optimistically chastised him, just as he expected.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I did say you could hold on to it if I was busy, and I was; I was sleeping, wasn't I? Frank can't expect to call at whatever time he wants. And one o'clock was unacceptable. He was even lucky you decided to call back." Pete gave a faint nod and sighed, lamely playing with the nails on his fingers.

"So how was the little reunion?" she asked, expecting a nonchalant answer to match his attitude. As she suspected, Pete shook his head.

"How's the raid going?" Pete questioned, instead of directly answering her question. He was giving a pathetic attempt to change the topic, and they both knew it. Truth was, he wasn't quite sure yet what he'd say about the phone call; so as of now the best move was to change the topic…or, he could link this change of topic to the phone call! Somehow he could make the link work in his favor. No doubt this would knock Frank off guard.

"What about the raid?" Irene asked, turning to face Pete. Maybe the conversation he had with Frank didn't go so great, so she wasn't going to push the topic any further. "I thought we were busy doing the funeral plan?"

"Is it not going on today?" Pete asked, and Irene got up from her position on the bed and began looking through her purse for her PDA. In all honesty, she had said the raid was only a possibility. And, as a mother, Frank coming back would be a lot more if he walked in to it on his own. She personally wasn't for the option of catching Frank all on her own.

"It might…it might not," she said, carefully picking her words.

"What do you mean?" Pete questioned, and Mrs. Iero gave a slight shrug.

"It means that…I trust my son when he says he's going to go to the funeral service," she quietly said, looking at Pete.

"But what about the tip from Cedar Grove?"

"That tip is nice and all," she started. "But I like the idea of Frank coming to me. Not the other way around."

"But we can't risk it!" Pete said, a bit upset. He badly wanted to end Frank's time with Gerard today, especially there was such a high possibility of it happening today as well. "With all due respect, Mrs. Iero, you weren't the one who spoke to Frank yesterday."

"Are you saying that I don't know my own son?" she asked, about to get hysterical again. She gave Pete a death glare and he evenly returned one in her direction.

"I'm saying that the Frank we knew has changed, Irene," Pete said, his voice low. "Do you want to know what he told me yesterday about him and Gerard? About how he doesn't want to leave?"

"Frank said he'd come."

"Then why is it that he hasn't called asking for directions?" Pete smartly asked. "The thing is tomorrow!"

"I thought that was why he called yesterday," Irene admitted, her voice now small.

"He called to brag about how stupid we are to think that he would turn himself in, and about how he and Gerard are going to stay together through out all of this. They don't plan on going to the funeral unless they see it as the last choice. And they don't."

"So…" Irene had nothing much more to say. Pete sounded pretty convinced that the right thing to do was to reel Frank in now. As much as the mother in her wanted her son to come to her, she also knew that she would hate herself if Frank made a fool of her—and after all that he had already done, she'd be damned if she let him do it again. "So…should we not even try for the funeral?"

Pete sighed, thinking his options through. "Well…even if you don't want the whole police force out in front of the motel, at least maybe I could go and do a quick check of it myself," he suggested. Faintly, Irene agreed. "I mean, that'd be less conspicuous than thirty police cars surrounding the building, right?"

"Alright then," she finally agreed. "You go on and check the motel yourself. But just know that I…I still trust Frank on this one," she told him. "And I know I must sound stupid to you, but he sounded so defeated when he admitted the possibility of going. Gerard's pushing him to go, and if one's pushing the other, than they're gonna go. You told me this yourself yesterday. But I'm sure that you're doing this with reasonable doubt. I do believe that Frank might've said something. It's better to be safe than sorry."

"Exactly," Pete said, happy that she saw things his way. Although he had to admit that when she started talking, it didn't sound like that.

"Besides, the worst that will happen is that he won't be there. But then we'll have the funeral to fall back on. After that, we unleash everything."

"Thank you," Pete said, finally smiling. Irene gave him a knowing look and Pete decided to press his luck. "I…I love Frank so much, you know? And him talking about the possibility of him screwing us over for that monster is…it's just—"

"I completely understand," she said, nodding. "Hopefully Frank was just bluffing when he said that."

"Well, I'll see about that," Pete said. He motioned to her PDA. "You still going to the funeral plan thing, right?"

"Well, I'll be there," she said, thinking it through. "So if it turns out that he is there, I'll cancel it. And if he isn't, just for the possibility, I'll continue planning."

"Alright," Pete said, relaxing into the bed and smiling. This sounded more like it. Poor Frankie; he probably _was _going to go the funeral service, but just for that snide remark yesterday, he was going to pay the ultimate price for it. And in the words of Frank, Pete was going to make sure he paid for it 'long and hard.'

"Um, Pete?" Mrs. Iero asked, interrupting Pete's latest fantasy.

"Huh?"

"The funeral planning starts at one o'clock," she said, putting on some makeup on her lips. Pete rose on his elbows before giving a confused look. What did that have to do with him?

"You've got to get word to me about Frank _before _then," she slowly explained. "Like, say…around 12:30 P.M.?"

Nervously, Pete took a look at the clock that hung on the wall behind Irene. As soon as the gravity of the situation sunk in, Pete's heart couldn't stop thudding against his chest. Frank could possibly be his in a matter of a couple of hours! Just think; in two hours Frank would be beneath him again, screaming in bliss…or pain. That wouldn't actually matter to Pete. As long as he was fucking Frank, he was fine. And he knew he'd get some alone time with Frank because Irene was 100% in favor of their relationship…

Frank wasn't back yet, but life was starting to look better already.

* * *

"So we have the car out in the back," Frank said, running it by Dan for the umpteenth time that morning. Dan gave an amused nod, still quite entertained by the fact that Frank seriously thought anything bad would or _could _happen after all this time. Nonetheless, he partook in the preparation. How horrible would he have felt if he was the cause for the couple's downfall?

So he had stayed up last night, after Frank went to the bathroom, and made sure that Bob wouldn't back out on his word. And as far as he was concerned, Bob was officially responsible for dropping the car keys at his desk and offering Frank and Gerard a place to stay if they needed it. The two went over it numerous times, and Bob understood how much he was needed in order for this to work. Of course, Dan conveniently left out the small bit that Bob was essentially helping out two fugitives…but that was another story.

"The car is out back by Levy and Dert; and the keys? He said he'd be here by morning." Frank demanded, twisting up the main focus of the question: Where the hell was this 'Bob' guy with the car?

"Bob should be here any minute now," Dan verified, sensing Frank's urgency. He couldn't blame him, though. It was nearing the afternoon. Bob did say morning, which would mean he would get here before 12:00 P.M. Things weren't looking that way…

"On a more important note, did you figure out whatever it was you wanted from your call yesterday?" Dan asked, trying to shift the topic. "I saw that it didn't go through the first time…" He didn't want Frank to freak out about a safety precaution that he probably didn't even really need for this morning. Frank gave a heavy sigh as he recalled his conversation with Pete.

"No," he admitted. "I didn't figure anything out besides the fact that the motel might be raided today."

"Raided?" Dan asked, eyebrows rising. "What do you mean?"

"Apparently it's been all over the news these last couple hours that Gerard and I are in the area," Frank said, still silently hating himself and the bank teller.

"Yeah, I heard that," Dan admitted. "But they all said there was a possibility of a raid," he corrected Frank, "if they got enough information. So far, they said what they had wasn't exactly enough." Was that what worried Frank? The unlikely possibility he'd been hearing from the television?

"That's what I thought," Frank bitterly agreed. "But Pete said otherwise."

"That was Pete that called you last night?" Dan asked, a bit shocked. "Why would he…it was probably just a tactic to scare you into giving yourselves up early. It would have been on the television that they were gonna raid us. They televise all the important things, no matter who's on the other end watching."

"That's what I thought at first," Frank agreed. "But I can't tell if he's lying or not. At least not over the phone, I can't."

"I think he's lying," Dan said finally, shrugging. Frank quickly agreed with him.

"I do, too. He has to be bluffing. I told my mother I'd go, didn't I?"

"But it never hurts to be safe, Frank," Dan continued, deciding to commend Frank's actions all through last night and this morning. "From what I've heard, Pete is tricky. And I would hate for things to end earlier than planned because of a misjudgment. You're trickier than this bastard. I know it."

Unexpectedly, there was a loud knock from the back entrance of the motel and both Frank and Dan jumped in place. Talk about the possible raid was nerve-wracking, especially when it could occur at any time of the day. What was to say that wasn't someone involved in law enforcement at the door right now?

"W-who is it?" Dan shakily called, and the person on the other end grunted.

"You want your fucking keys or not?" the man asked, jingling them.

With a sigh of relief, Dan ran and opened the door to reveal a dark-haired man in his mid-twenties. "Hey Bobby! Glad you made it," he said, patting his shoulder as he quickly shut the door.

"Dude, don't call me that," Bob warned him, his tongue piercing flashing in the light. Dan gave him a polite smile and lifted his hands.

"Okay…Bob."

Bob gave a small nod at Dan before resting his eyes on the small boy next to him. His eyes pierced into Frank's own and Frank stared at him back. Dan watched the silent eye battle take place as Frank and his girlfriend's brother struggled to say something to one another. Finally, Bob spoke.

"Nice tats you got there," he said, nodding at Frank's hands.

"Nice shirt," Frank replied back in the same manner, trying to copy Bob's composure. He seemed to have pulled it off well, because Bob's stern look faltered a bit as he reached in to informally greet Dan as well as Frank. Dropping the keys into Dan's hands, Bob turned his attention to Frank.

"Have a good time," he said, touching Frank's shoulder. "But don't mess her up, okay?" Frank gave another faint nod that Bob seemed to approve of, because he smiled before looking back at Dan.

"Bye, Bob," Dan said, giving a small hopeful smile. "And thank you again!" Bob nodded and gave Dan another long look before waving Frank off, walking out the door. As soon as Bob left, Frank turned to Dan with a perplexed expression.

"What's wrong?" Dan asked, and Frank shook his head.

"That's it?" Frank questioned the older man as the keys were over to him. "He's not going to say anything else?" he questioned, confused.

"Anything else like what?" Dan asked, chuckling. "He owes me; nothing more for him to say."

* * *

Gerard made his way around the room trying to set everything up. True, they were prepared a bit to leave for Friday, but they weren't _prepared _prepared. Or maybe they were, but Gerard just wasn't mentally prepared; nor would he ever be.

Frank arrived in their room no later than thirty minutes ago, eyes weighted down with bags. They hadn't spoken to each other, but merely passed one another brief glances. It seemed like the silence would go on forever; but after Frank gathered the last of his things, he turned and faced Gerard.

"You okay?" he quietly asked, and Gerard nodded. They both knew he was lying, but Frank chose to accept the lie for that day. Their hours together were diminishing.

"That's good to hear," he said. He didn't really have anything else to say, so he started the task of carrying some of Gerard's (now his) luggage.

"What're you doing?" Gerard quietly asked, a bit confused. They were leaving on Friday, weren't they? Or was today Friday? "Today's Thursday, right?" he questioned. "I'm not that much out of it, am I?"

"Yeah, today's Thursday," Frank said, letting the faintest of chuckles escape his lips. "I'm just being paranoid."

"What for?" Gerard cautiously asked, and Frank shrugged as he thought up of an excuse to tell Gerard so that he wouldn't freak out.

"Today's our last day together," Frank said, smiling. "I just want to make sure we spend all the time we can with each other, and get the things packed and waiting for us; you know…not the other way around."

"Oh," Gerard said, looking around at the remaining bags on the coffee table. Boy, he was going to miss this place. He was going to miss it a whole fucking lot. "That's…fine."

"Okay, so…" Frank grabbed the both of Gerard's bags and heaved them over his shoulders.

"You have a car already?" Gerard hesitantly asked, and Frank nodded sheepishly. A blush made its way on his face and he bit his lower lip.

"Did all the small stuff yesterday," he admitted. "While you were sleeping."

"Oh," Gerard said, feeling useless. "So you got the address for—"

"Yup," Frank said, smiling. That wasn't the total truth, but what was the truth anyway? Gerard hadn't gotten to ask his question, so for all he knew, Gerard might have been about to ask for the address of a place other than the service. He wasn't completely lying. But as he saw Gerard give a small nod, he couldn't help but feel guilty. The funeral was tomorrow, and he hadn't even figured out the name of the stupid place yet.

"Don't think about it, okay?" Frank gripped the items he was holding tighter and Gerard tried to smile back, but failed.

_ Today's our last full day together, _Gerard kept telling himself_. Our last full day_.

Snapping out of his own trance, Gerard reached for the bags on the floor, grabbing all of them except for one. They could get it when they came back. Besides, his most prized possessions were in there. As the saying goes, you save the best for last, no? Besides…he wanted to give them to Frank before he had to leave. And they were just packing 'just in case,' which meant that they didn't have to necessarily take everything today.

"M-Maybe I could help?" Gerard asked Frank as he neared Frank's location. Frank opened the door and stepped out before turning his attention to Gerard.

"Baby, you don't have to—"

"I want to, Frank," Gerard interrupted, following Frank out the door. Frank grinned at him before he led Gerard down the stairs and out the back exit. Dan caught sight of them before they left and waved. Frank waved back, as did Gerard.

"Packing so soon?" Dan asked, and Frank nodded.

"Like you said, you can never be too careful," Frank cheesily said back. Gerard gave a small frown as Frank shut the door behind them and tightened his grip on the bags. Frank ignored it, starting to walk down the faded sidewalk that ran alongside the lake.

"Car's this way," Frank finally murmured, "on the corner of Dert and Levy."

"You have any idea where that is?" Gerard asked, his frown now gone; there was a pensive look on his face though. Frank chuckled, shaking his head.

"Nope," he replied, happy that Gerard seemed to be talking again. That was all he saw. But if he had looked closer, he would have seen that Gerard still wasn't acting like himself. He would have known that it was not the best thing to pretend that everything was okay. Most importantly, he would have noticed the person who sat behind the wheel of the yellow taxi cab that just passed them. Instead he saw nothing, and he chose to pretend nothing was wrong.

"But I told Dan to tell the dude to park it in the back of the motel," he added after a second thought, looking at Gerard. "It shouldn't be far then…"

"What do you mean by 'you told Dan to tell' someone?" Gerard quietly asked, and right away Frank knew that he had landed in hot water. Gerard didn't sound happy; not in the slightest. "You didn't get him involved, did you?" Gerard asked again. When Frank didn't reply, Gerard got his answer.

"Do you know what you're dragging him into?" Gerard asked, holding Frank back and keeping him from walking any further.

"Baby, not here," Frank pleaded, putting his fringe against his face to cover up his eyes. Instinctively, he did the same for Gerard and his hair, explaining in a low whisper, "We're in public, Gee."

Gerard bit his lip and pulled his hand away from Frank, heeding his words. Frank gave Gerard a pleading look as he continued his search for the corner of Dert and Levy. Once they were out of the public's eye, they could talk and Gerard could yell at him all he wanted. But now wasn't the ideal moment. They were not a hot topic on television, which meant that Frank's case had more publicity than their earlier days here. If they showed their faces, they would most definitely get caught. Even those few moments before now when they were walking head down wasn't enough. What if someone had recognized them by now?

* * *

It was 12:20P.M., and Pete couldn't stop his mind from playing out his deepest and darkest fantasies concerning Frank. He missed Frank's cries of displeasure so much. He missed how Frank tried to fight against him, fight against what was meant to be. After today, there would be no more fighting.

As the yellow cab entered the town of Cedar Grove, Pete could easily see why Frank and Gerard had been able to keep a low profile. The place was empty, barren even. There was one high school, one middle school, one elementary school, and one daycare center. The houses—what was left of them, anyway—were all the same. This town didn't even seem like it was fitting for housing, and seemed more of an industrial place if anything. Industrial in a suburban kind of way, of course. Someone like Frank wouldn't last in the city.

"So I take it there's only one motel?" Pete asked, laughing at his own wit. The cab driver grunted.

"It's owned by a guy named Dan," he said, shrugging before he turned on his directional light.

"So I take it you all know each other," Pete continued, resting in the crappy chairs. Just imagine, Frank would be sitting next to him on the way home! He was already imagining how to break the news to Irene that her son was back…would he wait after Frank met his mother, or would he pay the cab driver a huge tip and fuck him at the backseat before anything else? Oh, what a dilemma.

The taxi driver gave another grunt and Pete decided he's stop trying to pursue the small talk. From the corner of his eye, he spotted something that didn't seem to fit with the rest of the things here. If anything, it looked like Frank's car was here. But as he squinted his eyes, he noticed that the car had a different logo. Besides, what would Irene be doing here anyway? She trusted him now. Even if it was a mistake on her part, she still trusted him and wouldn't be at the motel. There was still the possibility that she had to finalize the plans for a funeral service.

Pete let his eyes wander around the town before he passed a couple that was walking by. He saw them stop by the expensive car before the driver made a left turn and they were out of his sight. Pete hadn't been able to get a good look at things, but the smaller of the couple seemed pretty damn cute.

"And we're here," the cab driver announced, parking his car in front of the motel. Pete looked up and his eyes landed on the shittiest excuse for a motel he'd ever seen. It didn't even look like it was still open and running. He wondered if the 'David' guy was even there anymore.

"That'll be $25," the driver demanded, and Pete gave him a skeptical look.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" he asked, taking another glance. He peered over at the driver's seat to read the driver's name before he continued. "Because quite frankly…Nathan…it looks like shit."

"I said $25 dollars," Nathan repeated. "I didn't drive all the way from Bergen County for nothing. Now are you paying in cash or what?"

Pete sighed, taking off his seat belt. "I'll repay when I get back. I want you to wait for me until I leave the motel, okay?"

"That wasn't part of the deal," Nathan started, shaking his head.

Deep down inside, all creeps were the same. All you had to do was show them a little love, and they opened up to you and did what you wanted.

Smirking as he came up with a solution, Pete leaned in against Nathan's neck and licked his earlobe. This fucker was going to stay with him until he got Frank back, and it didn't seem like it was going to be hard to convince him to do so. Nathan was already panting wildly, and Pete could guess that he hadn't gotten some in a while.

"I-I-I want my m-money now," Nathan said, trying to stay strong. But he was failing. "O-Or are you g-going to p-pay me in a different w-way?"

"I don't know," Pete seductively whispered, pretending it was Frank he was chewing on. For once, Pete felt how Tina must have felt all this time, and he hated it. Why would he settle for this when he could have the real thing? And hopefully, the real thing was standing right inside of that sorry excuse for a motel. Besides, he wasn't in Tina's position. If anything, he was going to get some today, this very afternoon, because of Frank. And who knew; maybe Nathan would join in on the action.

As if reading Pete's thoughts, Nathan gave a small shudder. Pete took this as the chance to plead his case and he huskily murmured, "Apparently, a blow job isn't part of the deal either, Nathan…if you catch my drift."

"I-I'll wait," Pete finally heard, and a smile implanted itself on his lips.

"Smart choice," he muttered, before exiting the musty yellow cab. This was it; he knew it. And once he left this place, Frank would in his arms again. Well, considering the work he had to finish, he would probably be in Nathan's arms too—but only for a little while. He'd just be getting Frank back after all. He wasn't that eager to share yet.

Taking a deep breath, Pete raised his hand and knocked on the doors leading into the motel.

* * *

Quietly Gerard followed, keeping his eyes either on the ground or at Frank's back, worried and now paranoid. His paranoia failed to fade away as soon as the corner came into view, either. There, right at Dert and Levy, stood a black Mercedes Benz. Gerard's eyes doubled as the object grew bigger with each step, instead of disappearing like he expected it to. How the fuck did Frank pull this off?

Gerard soon heard Frank fumbling for something, and it wasn't long before he found out that Frank had the keys to this car as well. Frank didn't even bother to sit inside it, but instead he opened the trunk and hastily dumped their belongings into the spacious vehicle.

"Who does this belong to?" Gerard quietly asked, a bit in shock. "Or is it yours?"

"Why would it be mine?" Frank asked, slightly confused. "You've seen my house Gerard. You know I don't have a car."

Frank took the things from Gerard's grasp and threw them in the trunk as well, before slamming it shut. With a slight push of the lock button, the car beeped and the lights flashed twice before fading out. As soon as he heard the beep, Frank turned on his heel, ready to go and bring any last minute items. If he remembered correctly, Gerard and he had both carried two bags each. One was still upstairs in their room that they had to recover.

Instead of waiting until they reached the motel like he had promised, Gerard started publicly bombarding Frank with his suspicions. "You said you spoke with them last night," Gerard finally said, keeping up with Frank's quick pace (although that wasn't hard for him to do).

"Yeah," Frank admitted, his pace quickening.

"And your mother said she had a new car for you waiting in the parking lot," Gerard continued, keeping up with Frank's pace. "Why are you so nervous, Frank? Did you not want me to find out that you asked Dan to call your mother so that we had a car to get to the service for tomorrow?"

"Ger—I mean…" Frank nervously looked around to see if anyone had spotted them. When the place was clear, he whispered, "Gerard, no. I wouldn't ever ask her for anything."

"So explain this to me, Frank!" Gerard hissed, and Frank glared at him.

"You would think you'd be a little more appreciative of what I'm trying to do," he snapped back, shoving his hands in his pockets as they nearly reached the back entrance of the motel.

"I would be if I knew what was going on," Gerard evenly replied. "But instead I wake up to a room with no Frankie, only to see him enter and then start packing things away in some brand-new Mercedes Benz as if it's the everyday norm! Not only that, but you tell me you got Dan involved in this mess, Frankie. You know that he could already get himself in trouble for housing us? Let alone help us? Is that what you want? Everyone associated with you to be thrown in jail and locked away for helping you?"

By this point, only the trees, the back entrance of the motel, and the lake were their witnesses now.

"You know what Gerard?" Frank asked, turning around to face him. "Stop acting like a fucking jerk."

"You know what Iero? Stop acting like you don't have a brain in that pretty little head of yours!" Gerard snapped back. Frank stared at him in disbelief before reason took over and he securely covered his head once more.

"So that's how it is now?" Frank asked Gerard as laid against the grimey walls. "I'm an 'Iero'?"

"It's your name, isn't it?" Gerard smugly responded. Frank sighed, shaking his head.

"What do you want from me, Gerard?" he quietly asked. "Do you want me to change my name? Give away all my money? Hell, I haven't even really used anything to begin with."

"It's not about that," Gerard replied, his voice quieting down.

"Then what is it?" Frank asked, tiredly stretching against it. He hadn't slept all night, and arguing with Gerard didn't help him much. He hadn't thought he'd done anything wrong. He just planned for them to get ready in case anything odd happened. "Look," he sighed, closing his eyes. It was evident that he was tired. He hadn't felt it before, but now sleep was calling out to him. But he couldn't sleep anyway. This was going to be his last day with Gerard, and he'd be damned if he spent it sleeping.

"What?" Gerard asked, giving him a stern look. Frank gave another sigh.

"I thought I was doing the best thing to do this behind your back because you've been out of it these last hours Gerard," Frank explained. "And I don't blame you. Not at all. I just…I didn't want to bother you with things like this if I was fully capable of doing it on my own. And after I heard the possibility that something might be going on today, I decided the best thing to do was to prepare for it. And…I wanted the car put in the back so that you wouldn't see it and freak out. Besides, if we were to have a getaway, how would it ever work with us sneaking out the front?"

"You worry too much for me Frankie," Gerard said, shaking his head as he leaned against the grimey wall as well. "I mean, I heard about the same possibilities on the television, but I didn't do anything. I don't think they would. I mean, funeral is tomorrow. And we already struck the deal that we'd go, so why would they do anything like that?"

_That's what I thought_, Frank thought as he smiled. He knew it; he was just over exaggerating about the possibilities, wasn't he?

"I felt that way," Frank started. "But I figured it was better to be safe than sorry."

"It…it is," Gerard finally admitted, shaking his head. "But to wake up and see you taking care of everything…did you even sleep last night? You look tired."

Frank shook his head. "I had to make sure that the car would come, and I had to make sure I had the directions for the other motel we would probably need to crash at if anything did go wrong today but I still haven't managed to get the directions to the service, and yet I remember my mother telling me it was going to be in Bergen County, so the motel is near there, cuz you know, funeral service wouldn't be far from it, but just to make sure, I've got to—"

"Fuck it," Gerard muttered embarrassedly, shaking his head. "You're a big kid now, Frank. You can take care of yourself. I guess I'm just…shocked and nervous to let you go. I mean, I haven't even gone yet, but you manage to do all this on your own…I'm proud of you," Gerard admitted, letting his fear show through. "I'm…I'm sorry for acting like a ditz."

"Gerard, was that why you've been feeling under the weather today?" Frank asked. "Babe, I'll always need you. Always."

"You're doing a pretty good job on your own, I must say," Gerard said, smiling. Frank was now frowning. This wasn't the response he was supposed to be getting from Gerard. "I was feeling kinda shitty yesterday and I was…yesterday just showed me on many levels just how much you've changed, Frankie. And I love it; I really do. But it looks like you won't be needing me any more."

"Gerard, if this is another attempt at a shitty break up, I'll hurt you," Frank warned, glaring at him. He wasn't joking, either.

"It's not," Gerard assured him. "It's just that…I don't feel _needed _anymore. I can imagine you with any one out there now. You don't need me to make you happy."

"Fuck, what are you _saying_?" Frank asked in annoyance. "Gerard, you're out of it right now. Let me just go up, get the last bag, and we can be on our way, yeah?" Gerard remained behind him, about to enter as well.

"Frankie, I really do appreciate everything. I just want you to know that," he pleaded, holding Frank. Frank went inside as he nodded, with Gerard following close behind. It wasn't long before Frank stopped dead in his tracks, becoming cold.

There was no way the fucker was actually telling the truth yesterday, was he?

_Apparently so_, he snapped to himself as he continued to watch Dan and his new…'visitor.'

"You know how much you mean to me—Frank, what's wrong?" Gerard asked, gripping Frank's now ice-cold hands. Frank's eyes remained straight ahead, and they widened in pure shock. Gerard craned his neck to see if he could see what was plaguing his boyfriend, but he was interrupted when Frank demanded he leave.

"Get out Gerard," Frank whispered, his heart freezing. He took a gulp before he rapidly blinked again; but Pete was still in the lobby, chatting it up with Dan. Oh, fuck. They were screwed, weren't they?

"What?" Gerard asked, confused and oblivious to the danger and high risk of getting caught. Why was Frank still whispering? They were inside now, weren't they?

"I said get the fuck _out_, Gee," Frank hissed, hands on Gerard's chest as he ushered him out the motel. With a quick push, he heaved Gerard outside into the November air and forcefully placed the keys to the Benz in Gerard's pocket so it wouldn't make a sound.

"What the fuck is _wrong _with you?" Gerard asked, hissing simply for the fact that Frank was hissing. He had no idea why Frank wanted to play it quiet, but whatever. Right now, he wanted to know why his boyfriend was doing this. One second, he was all 'let's go in the motel' and now he was telling Gerard to get the fuck out. Or maybe Frank didn't want Gerard up there with him because he'd been offended. Frank had said 'let _me _go up,' hadn't he?

The thoughts swimming in Gerard's head slowed down when he saw the evident fear in Frank's eyes. "Gerard, I think—"

"You know what? Fucking forget it," Gerard interrupted, walking backwards. "I'll fucking go. You just do what you need to do. I'm only getting in the way of things as usual."

"No, Gerard!" Frank tried to explain. "I think that's P—"

Gerard was so pissed that he took the honor of slamming the door in Frank's face, and Frank inwardly cringed. Gerard was back to being angry again, wasn't he? And not only were he and Gerard in another fight again, but he could hear the quiet chatting come to a screeching halt. For sure, Frank knew, Pete was aware.


	57. Close Call

**Close Call**

"Yeah," Pete nonchalantly agreed, rubbing his temple. This Dan dude could talk for hours, couldn't he? True, he had only been in the motel for a total of five or so minutes, but during those five minutes, Dan had made sure Pete had been glued to the seat and spoke forever. "That…that is some great history you got there," Pete said, putting up a very polite smile.

"In fact, I'm thinking of closing the place down," Dan thought aloud, and Pete gave a small nod. Jeez, would it never end? "You saw the place, you know what I'm dealing with."

"Not really," Pete rudely scoffed, his impatience shining through. "Just the fucking lobby. And all you do is talk about every fucking thing in it. It's nice—it's all really nice, but I told you already that I'm here looking for someone."

"If you heard anything I said, you would have heard me say that no one's here," Dan snootily replied, giving a smug smile. "But trust me, I'm really sorry for the Ieros."

"I'd still like a tour of someplace _other _than the lobby," Pete said, relaxing against the chair.

"No problem," Dan agreed, shrugging. "Although, I think it'll just be a waste of your time."

"That's for me to decide," Pete muttered, picking his nails.

"So," Dan said, looking around. It was safe for him to do this, right? Frank and Gerard had left a while ago…without saying 'goodbye,' too. But he could always call, if that really bothered him. Dan's eyes finally landed on Pete and he asked, "Where to?"

_Bam_!

The act caused Pete to look up for the source of the sound and he saw surprise etch itself on Dan's face. Whatever just happened was obviously in Pete's favor. Subtly, he took advantage of that fact and nodded his head to the back of the motel where the sound had originated. Dan cursed silently to himself when he realized what Pete was going to request.

"Yeah?" he slowly asked, trying his best not to freak out that Pete was in his motel and Frank had just conveniently slammed the door as he entered. He had seen Frank and Gerard leave earlier and assumed they had started driving already. But you know what they say: when you 'assume,' you make an 'ass' of 'u' and 'me.' Dan was going to learn this the hard way, wasn't he?

"You never showed me back there," Pete said, questioning Dan as he raised a brow. Was Frank back there? It had to be him. Who else would this Dan guy be lying for?

Dan shrugged and Pete noticed his uncertainty. Whoever just slammed the door had something to do with the reason why he was here today, and he couldn't fucking wait to get his hands on either of the two boys he was looking for. "I'm sure you have some rooms back there," Pete continued, grinning as he stood.

Dan took a deep breath, shaking away his nerves. Maybe he could pull this off. But if he was going to, he was going to have to focus. "We do, but they haven't been used in such a long time."

"You never know," Pete said, smiling. "Something or someone…could be hiding out there."

Dan froze, but forced a smile. Pete had seen Frank too, hadn't he? But he couldn't have. He was sitting down; there was no way he could see anything from that position. Besides, now Frank was lowly crouched behind some of the boxes that littered the ground. He was scared; that much was evident in his eyes. Dan wanted to tell him to leave or send him a message somehow, but Pete's burning gaze wouldn't allow him to do anything without giving out Frank's location. So as Dan's eyes skimmed the area, he nonchalantly passed Frank's frightened eyes as if the boy wasn't there.

"Just answer me this one thing," Pete said, a dominant air now around him as he stood and walked over to the front window. To be honest, it was intimidating, and Dan gave a reluctant nod. "Anyone here? At all?" Pete questioned, biting his lower lip in anticipation. Either Dan said 'yes' and betrayed Frank, or he said 'no' and betrayed himself and his liability, because they both knew and heard that someone had entered the motel.

Slowly, Dan shook his head and Pete smiled brightly. Dan, on the other hand, was now fully preoccupied with constructing a plan that would save Frank's ass. Why on Earth would the fucker slam the door? Then again, he entered through the back; he hadn't known Pete was inside. Fuck, what was he going to do? Maybe he could distract Pete long enough to let Frank sneak out again, or else Frank would be screwed. It was the most he could do at this point, though. He had to try it.

Luckily for Dan, Pete was busy at the window, holding up five fingers to his cab driver as he grinned. While Pete was busy talking (signaling) to the driver, Dan was busy signaling for Frank to get the hell out of there. He shook his head at Frank in a condescending manner, widening his eyes as if to question 'why the fuck are you here?' Frank gave an apologetic look at Dan and looked from Pete, to the door beside him, and back to Dan again. Dan thought his message had translated pretty well to Frank and urged him once more to go. But Dan soon learned that the apologetic look wasn't for what Frank had done, but for what he was _going _to do.

Instead of heeding Dan's warning, Frank did the most stupid thing imaginable and lifted his hoodie securely around his head before creeping upstairs, using the alternate staircase. With Pete's peripheral vision it seemed that Dan was looking back there for a certain object at that moment, flailing his hands frantically. Pete quickly turned around and Dan jumped from surprise, regaining appropriate composure.

"J-Just looking for the keys, you know," Dan lied, stuttering.

"They're on the desk," Pete replied coolly, nodding his head in that direction. Dan's cheeks reddened as he fumbled for them but Pete remained cool, smirking.

"Show me back there, will you…?" he calmly asked, popping a stick of gum in his mouth.

Dan waited until he was sure Frank wasn't down amidst the boxes anymore before he answered Pete. "No problem," Dan said, nodding slowly when he realized how less confident he sounded than before. It was safe to go there now, wasn't it? Frank had gone upstairs by this point, so he was safe. He just had to stall down here to an unsuspecting Pete. In fact, Pete shouldn't and probably _wouldn't_ mind the prolonged time down here, since he thought that was where Frank was. Everything was going to be okay, and for the meantime, Frank was safe.

"…and then after that, maybe you could show me upstairs," Pete continued, patting Dan's back as he headed over to the specified location of the building himself.

Maybe Frank wasn't so safe anymore…

* * *

Frank couldn't fucking believe that Pete was downstairs! He didn't know if he was angrier than scared. He and Gerard hadn't exactly ended their conversation on the best of terms. Plus, the act had caused him to shove Gerard outside to fend for himself, right after he had apologized for not telling him everything. He had forgotten to add this, hadn't he? And now Gerard was either in the car steaming pissed, or angrily stomping in blind fury. Things were going to fall apart, weren't they?

_ You can do this_, he told himself, pinching his arm. "I can fucking do this," he whispered, trying to calm his beating heart.

But his words fell on deaf ears; his thudding heart drowned out his words of assurance to himself.

Quickly, Frank scurried around the room being careful not to make any noise. Pete and Dan were downstairs, and their room was right above the two. Dan had told Pete that no one was in the motel besides the two of them. How would Dan explain himself if Pete heard scurrying?

Picking up the last and final bag, Frank opened it to make sure that they hadn't left anything behind. Gerard's sunglasses were inside, as well as his sketchbook, and license. They were small in quantity, but very important. Come to think about it, Frank had never seen Gerard's license before. But it made some sense, seeing that Gerard never drove him around even once. Everything was by means of public transportation. Yet he somehow managed to assume Gerard knew how to drive without any proof. But how hard could driving be? You just had to press on the accelerator and the brakes, and then—

"So…upstairs?" Frank heard Pete coyly ask, and Frank's heart froze. They were a few feet away now. Boy, was he screwed.

"Uh…y-yeah?" he heard Dan reply, a bit unsure. "Why would you want to go there anyway? I suspected you wanted to check out the back because of that noise."

"Just want to make sure no one's anywhere, you know," Pete answered. "I could save the police force a lot of money if I find out before time that there's no need to raid an empty place…and this is an empty place, right?"

The last part of Pete's statement sounded threatening, and whatever he had in store for Dan was something Frank didn't want to be responsible for. In an attempt to calm himself down, Frank released the breath he'd been holding.

"Yup," Dan said confidently, heading up the stairs. The steady _thud _of Dan's boots acted as a damning warning and Frank's body refused to move. "But we'll start from the end of the hallway, okay?"

Thank god for Dan.

"Sure," Pete said. Fucker was probably smiling.

"And it'll probably take us about a good couple of minutes in each room," Dan went on, speaking a bit louder. "I mean, by the time we reach Room 16, it'll probably take us seven or so minutes."

"What's so special about Room 16?" Pete asked, a bit suspicious. Frank could see the bottom of Pete's sneakers right outside the door and he held his breath once more, gripping the bag full of his and Gerard's belongings.

"It's just the middle of it all," Dan said, bullshitting. He knew where Frank was located; the door to Room 16 was closed and locked, compared to the door left ajar like it had been when the two first left. "So if it takes us about seven minutes to get there, that means it'll take us about fifteen minutes to check upstairs," he continued, essentially telling Frank he had a limited time until he couldn't be helped anymore. Taking a deep breath, Dan asked a final time, "You still up for it?"

"Lead away," Pete said, and Frank sprang into action as soon as he heard Pete tread behind Dan to the other side of the hall. They were only two or three rooms away, so Frank had to act now.

His feet lightly padded against the carpet floor as he scurried to the other end of the room. It was then when he checked the night stands for anything they had possibly left. He found their cell phones and fumbled a bit, with his own slipping out of his hands and falling onto the floor with a _beep_.

Terrified, Frank waited for any response at all; there was none.

He would have chuckled at his carelessness when he dropped his cell, but doing that would bring more attention and waste more time. He couldn't have that happen. Quietly, after he had cleaned out the dressers in the room and packed the phones away in the backpack, he moved on to the bathroom.

"Next room?" Pete asked Dan, and Dan responded by nodding.

"Next room it is," he agreed, and Frank gasped. From the way the sound passed through the walls, it seemed like they were directly on the opposite end, in the neighboring room to his own. That meant whatever movement he made in the bathroom could be heard…

…like that gasp he just emitted.

"Did you hear that?" Pete asked, stepping deeper into the room. Frank covered his mouth and waited for a response from Dan as he stared at himself in the mirror. Tears blurred his vision as the idea of this being the end seemed inevitable. He didn't want this to be the end. He hadn't been able to say good-bye to Gerard!

"The doors creak," Dan said lamely. Apparently, Pete wasn't buying it and Dan snapped at him. "Stop trying to listen through the walls," Dan demanded. "I told you where the fucking noise was from."

"Tense, are we?" Pete taunted. "Is there something in the next room?"

At the sound of that, Frank snapped out of his frozen stupor and tiptoed out the bathroom door, being careful to shut the lights off. Whatever was in the bathroom was not worth getting caught for.

Silently, Frank crouched down low, looking underneath the bed for anything at all. When he didn't find anything, he tried fluffing the pillows. And when that came up with the same result, Frank laid against the foot of the bed, thinking of how on Earth he could now leave the room without getting caught.

Part of him thought he actually had a chance at escaping if he left through the front door while Pete and Dan were still deep inside the other room. But Frank knew he'd catch attention, and then Pete would take one look at him and know. Maybe he could do something else…?

With options flying through his head, Frank kept the hoodie on and decided to wear Gerard's glasses to help with the disguise. That could help, right? Pete would never recognize him. He was already growing some stubble, thanks to the tension in the air between him and his boyfriend. His looks had been the last thing on his mind. But even then, it wasn't bad. With the new haircut, glasses, and piercings, there was no way Pete would recognize him.

Even then, the option of simply walking out and past Pete was out. Disappointingly, he removed the sunglasses. Pete had said he came to the motel himself to ensure that if people were here, they wouldn't leave. And if people weren't here, it was his job to tell the police force not to bother. Maybe he could just hide out in the room or something, maybe under the bed or in the closet and wait for Pete to leave.

"Do you seriously have to check under the bed?" Frank heard Dan ask.

"When I tell the police that no one is here, I want to be sure," he said. "Now get ready to show me Room 16, if you please."

"Whatever," Dan muttered. But Frank stood still, unsure where to go: where to hide?

He looked around desperately as he heard Pete get to his feet and dust himself off. His eyes landed on the window of their room and he hastily tried to open it. He could hear Dan sarcastically mutter, "Dude, it's just a shirt."

"Do you know how much this shirt is?" Pete asked, and Frank made a bold move.

Gently placing the bag on the floor, he left the window and made his way to the door, and swiftly locking it. Dan would be forced to take out the keys and open the door, but at least that would buy him anywhere from five seconds to three minutes to escape. Luckily, Pete hadn't heard him this time and Frank attended the window, urging it to open a little bit farther. When it refused to, Frank resolved to simply throwing the bag out the window. Nothing in there was fragile enough to break and it was thin enough, so he felt confident with that move. In fact, as Frank tried, he found that his legs could fit through the window…maybe he could actually fit through…

But his motor skills froze as soon as he heard the doorknob rattle. "This fucker is locked!" Pete snapped in annoyance.

"Is it?" Dan asked, checking it out himself. "Well," he said finally, as Frank remained frozen in the window. "I guess that means I'll just have to go downstairs and get the other set of keys." Frank let out a deep breath before he attended back to the window and its lack of suavity. He gave it another violent shove and it screeched as it moved only centimeter more. Frank silently cursed to himself as he heard Pete bang harder against the door; he had to have known.

With that thought and obvious fact in mind, Frank tried to suck his stomach to fit through the crack. But it wasn't happening. The window was just too stuck and jolted. It refused to move any more without more screeching noises, and how could that help him out in any way? Besides, going through the window would mean he'd have to endure a somewhat of a long fall without emitting a single peep. Two stories counted as 'somewhat,' right? Especially if the ground was cement?

"Frank!"

Frank's body jerked, giving him a scratch on his bare belly from the old window panels as he heard someone whisper his name. Was that Pete that heard? Fuck, had he figured them out for sure then. He couldn't have it end this way, he couldn't!

"You can do it, baby!" he heard the same voice again, and he tried to force himself through. This time, he managed to let his legs through, but the position wasn't so comfortable this time, with the metal digging into his belly. The clothes he was wearing was supposed to shelter him from that, but the space in the window was too tight, his shirt now ridding up and leaving his chest bare.

There was a dull sting from Frank's abdomen, but he ignored it as soon as he heard the window give another piercing shriek, signifying that its mouth opened up another centimeter. Frank's fingers were still clung around the base of the window, fearing to let go. True, his stomach could now fit through, but his head was going to be the next obstacle. And the only way that would happen is if he moved his hands and pushed up, letting go. But if he let go, that meant that he was going to fall…and he wasn't sure if he was ready to throw all caution to the wind and just let go.

"Screw it Dan," Frank heard Pete angrily mutter. "I'm not stupid. I know someone's in there. The window's fucking screeching." Following that was a loud _BAM_, and Frank could feel the vibrations carry through the wall and through the window. The window gave another screech, this time its mouth closing on Frank and trapping him, rather than easing him through. There was another _bam _and the window's mouth further restricted Frank, causing him to panic.

Pete was going to knock the door down and see him here, pull him up, and it would all be over.

He angrily jerked his leg and tried to free himself from the glass windows, but it wasn't coping well. And when Pete banged against the door again, Frank started wheezing. The tight hold the window had on him was restricting his air. Just imagine if he had an attack right now and passed out. How lovely.

"I'll catch you," Frank heard, and this time he looked to see if it was him talking to himself, or if someone was actually down there, cheering him on. He couldn't see, thanks to his clouded eyes and to the dirty window he was currently decorating with his blood. But if he made a guess, the voice sounded like it belonged to—

"G-Gee?" Frank whispered quietly to himself. Great. He was hearing things now. But maybe this would be like the time when he thought he'd lost Gerard forever, the night when Gerard came back for his jacket. He'd thought he was imagining things back then, too. Fucking hell, so what if he was imagining Gerard's voice now? Things couldn't possibly go worse. If anything, it would help him through this, right? "B-baby, I-I ca-can't," Frank mumbled, a sob reaching his throat.

"Yes you can," he heard the voice say again, although it sounded distant. Wonderful. The imaginary voice was bailing out on him too.

"Th-the wind-d—"

"Push out with your hands," he heard him suggest. "Come on, baby." The words of encouragement were drowned out as soon as Pete collided with the door once more. Frank gave a gasp and Pete's movements stilled. Frank cursed at himself as he imagined the grin plaguing Pete's face.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Pete sang menacingly, rattling the doorknob.

"Fucking cool it!" Dan demanded. "No one's in there. Besides, I have the keys to prove it to you so just fucking wait."

"If you know what's good for you, you'll hurry up," Pete threatened, and Dan looked up the stairs to see a highly threatening man. He could understand how someone like Frank could have been involved with Pete and scared to come out. But Dan did know what was good for him, and what was good for him was good for Frank. Hurrying up those stairs and handing Pete the key wasn't good for Frank; therefore, Dan knew what he was going to do.

Pete gave an annoyed groan as Dan kept his pace and began to attack the door once more. "Stop this shit, Frank," Frank heard from the other end. "End this now, before you pay for it later."

"N-no," Frank sobbed, shaking his head. "No."

"Does that sound like there's no one inside to _you_?" Pete smugly asked, and Dan shrugged. There was nothing he could say; he'd been caught red handed. "Hurry up and hand me the keys, before I turn you in for housing wanted fugitives."

And with that, Dan had no other option but to hand him a pair of keys. But Dan was no idiot. He still planned on wasting as much time as he could, which was why he handed Pete the _wrong _set of keys.

"Good boy," Pete purred to him, and Dan shuddered from how creepy it sounded. How did Frank ever get in contact with someone like that?

Back inside the room, Frank heard the doorknob rattle and he started kicking frantically, the metal and plastic wedging into his skin. He was going to give it his all. It wouldn't be fair to leave Gerard hanging on his own. Screw what was fair, even. He didn't _want _to leave Gerard yet, if ever. But he still couldn't manage to bring lift himself up and fall down onto the cement floor while he was two stories high, 25 feet above ground. Sure, it was now his only way out, but what if he didn't make it? Without a doubt, they would pin his death on Gerard as well, and he didn't want that. But if he wanted to get out of this and see Gerard…

As if Gerard could figure out his thoughts, he shouted, "I'm right here to catch you, Frankie!" He could tell that Frank was listening but a bit unsure. Maybe Frank's fears would erase if he was sure that Gerard was really there. And he was. He'd never left. How could he?

"I'm stuck," Frank finally stuttered, trying one more time to pull free. Tears streamed down his face as his heart thudded heavily against his aching chest. "The window, it's stuck—"

Frank was interrupted with another loud BAM and froze as Dan yelled at Pete in the background to stop or else he'd sue him for damaging property.

"Then find the right fucking keys next time!" Pete snapped, before banging again.

"Baby," Gerard whispered loudly enough for Frank to hear. "Instead of only kicking your legs, try lifting the window a little bit. Some sort of leeway for you." Gerard could sense the doubt in Frank and answered them by outstretching his arms. "Yeah, doing that would leave you to fall on your ass, but I'm here. Let go."

Frank, despite the fact that he now knew Gerard was really there, was still worried. But as Pete's series of pounds against the door quickened, he realized it all came down to one question: did he want to live and end up with Pete's abusive ways again, or die trying to be with the man who owned his heart?

There was one more _BAM _as Frank made his ultimate decision and harshly pushed the window open, the old glass screeching violently. Instead of letting it fall on him again, Frank used both his hands to push up, giving more space to allow him to fit through the mouth-jagged edges of the window and push out. And as Frank fell back, he closed his eyes and let out a short scream before he bit his lip in anticipation for the pain that was sure to come when he collided with the floor. He sure hoped this wasn't the end; but if he died, he hoped Gerard would understand.

* * *

It took Pete a while, but as soon as he opened the door there was a cold breeze that slapped him in the face. Pete immediately went to the window and tried to open it. He'd heard it clamp shut, and at the same time it clamped shut, Frank pathetic sobbing could be heard no more. At first, he'd thought Frank had killed himself trying to escape, with the old window shutting against his neck and decapitating him. But as he approached the closed window, he realized that wasn't the case. Or, what he actually realized was that Frank hadn't died from decapitation. The risk that he'd died during the fall was still there, Pete remembered, gazing outside.

He was surprised he cared this much, but he did. All this time, he'd never thought Frank was in any real danger. But he never thought about the risks Frank himself was willing to take, dangerous or not. A dead Frank was not something Pete wanted on his conscious. He could deal with having him stoned, high, drunk, or passed out; but dead was another issue.

There was nothing in this room. In fact, it looked as if no one had resided in this room for a while now. Or if not, that meant that the person who last rented this room was a neat freak. And coincidently, Frank popped into mind.

"This place is…spotless," Dan said in surprise, and Pete nodded as his eyes scanned the outdoors. When he couldn't see anything through the grime of the window, he pulled the window up. It was a struggle, but he managed to get it done. And once he did, he saw the bottom covered with dirt and spots of blood. It was disgusting, but this was a motel. What more could you expect?

He peeped his head out the window as Dan himself took a look around the room, still a bit amazed. Pete ignored him and looked down the building, half expecting to see Frank's mangled body on the ground. But he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw nothing but the black cement of the abandoned parking area and the remnants of a dirty lake.

So Frank had managed to get away, eh? Slick fucker…he had to hand it to him. Although, he wouldn't have gotten anywhere had it not been for his pal Dan over here.

"You lucky shit," Pete muttered more for Frank than he did for Dan. But he didn't mind if Dan was mistaken and thought he was addressing him. He was, in a sense.

"I guess no one was here," Dan said, and he shrugged. "Let's go."

"You fucking helped him out," Pete said, turning around. "Frank's gone."

"Frank was never here," Dan said, shrugging. "So I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," Pete snapped. "Someone was in this room."

"Who said that 'someone' had to be Frank?" Dan coyly asked, and Pete lost his cool and grabbed Dan by his collar, slamming his against the wall.

"Don't fuck with me," Pete snarled. "I'm not in the mood for this shit. Now where's Frank?"

"You answered your question a few moments ago, didn't you?" Dan smugly replied. Pete's eyes became slits, but Dan kept his composure. "I know about you, Pete Wentz. I know what a slimeball you are, how heartless and cold you are…but what that also means is that I also know how much you don't deserve someone like Frank or Gerard. And I'll never help you in any way possible."

Pete tightened his grip on Dan before he let go, completely blinded with rage. But he wasn't going to kill: oh no. He was going to do something much much worse.

Angrily, with an evil grin implanted on his face, Pete made his way down the stairs and exited the motel, sitting in the backseat of the cab. He quickly dialed Mrs. Iero and alerted her to go ahead with the funeral plans. Thanks to Dan, Pete couldn't say that he had proof that Frank had ever been here. He hadn't seen anything at all. In fact, Room 16 was the cleanest. None of the evidence would help his case, and he wasn't in the mood to be told he was lying when he knew damn well he wasn't. So, Dan was going to pay for making him miss out on the chance to see Frank.

After he left a voicemail message on Irene's cell, Nathan looked at him with eager eyes, anticipating the 'payment' for his services.

"So?" he asked, and Pete glared at him. Nathan's heartbeat sped up and Pete initiated his plan. He gave Nathan a hard kiss to the lips before he pulled back, grasping a small bag he'd brought with him during the cab ride. He was initially going to use it on Frank, but Dan was going to have to pay for the lack of Frank's presence now.

Silently, Nathan's eyes wandered over to the pack Pete was holding. "What's the case for?"

"Just something to have fun with," Pete said, smirking as he crawled over to the front of the car. Nathan groaned as it registered in his mind and he grabbed Pete's hands and directed them south. Pete cringed; people like this always had to get right to the chase. There was no fun with it. Where was the creativity?

"Wait," Pete tried to urge him, but the cab driver ignored him.

"I thought the payment was that I got to decide what I wanted to do to you," he rasped, and he took Pete by his chin and brought him down for another rough kiss. This wasn't anything like Pete imagined; he hadn't thought that Nathan would have a clue what he was doing.

But it turned out that Nathan must've gotten tons of offers like this in career, and he knew what he was doing…no matter how rushed he seemed to be. Besides, the dominance was turning Pete on. That was another thing he loved about Gerard. Back at home, it was true people of the like surrounded him. But no one had the guts to dominate him…that was, until Gerard came around. Nathan holding him against the wheel, head down, sucking on his face…It just reminded him of Gerard, how he would sometimes treat Frank, and the man that was inside the motel at this moment who thought he pulled a fast one on Pete. He had to push his plan further.

"This should be fun," Nathan breathed, grinning as he pulled his seat back and undid his belt. "Now turn over."

"Wait—"

"I thought we agreed that I'm in charge of this," Nathan said in annoyance, roughly pulling Pete to the side.

"Of course," Pete sweetly agreed. "But I thought you'd be more into the idea of a threesome…"

"There's a third person?" Nathan asked, a bit intrigued. Pete nodded, hoping that Nathan would go ahead with it. His heart fell when he realized Nathan wasn't exactly enthused.

"I thought it was just me and your pretty little face," he finally said, his hands reaching down Pete's pants. Pete gasped and he bit down on his lip—hard. He had to gain control of this situation; he didn't like the position he was in right now, with no say at all. And that's when he did it and slapped Nathan.

"Fiesty, are you?" Nathan chuckled, restraining Pete further against the wheel. "Even better." He began to grind Pete on him, making Pete honk the car with every thrust. Pete's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he decided to play the lust-driven card on Nathan and gripped Nathan's shoulders as if it was the best thing he'd felt in a long time.

"You're just so fucking hott," Pete moaned. "Ohhh."

Just as Pete suspected, it went straight to Nathan's ego and he started rubbing himself on Pete harder. Pete kept moaning and panting, but after a while he decided to step it up a bit.

"Could you fuck him for me, Natty?" Pete moaned. "Fuck him and then fuck me."

"Fuck who?" Nathan asked, and Pete nodded over to the motel. Nathan chuckled, but this time he didn't decline the offer. Pete smiled and kissed the stranger deeply, willingly rubbing himself against him. Nathan gave a moan himself before he pulled away, hands on Pete's ass.

"Fine," he agreed, squeezing Pete. "But after, I get my way with you." Pete gave a seductive smile as he licked Nathan's face and raised the case full of sedatives high in the air, as to confirm the statement. As soon as Nathan's eyes landed on those, he chuckled, already knowing the answer. He gave Pete one last look before he grabbed the pack and headed into the motel, looking for the man he was supposed to fuck and get out the way, before he could truly enjoy himself.

"He's the only person in there," Pete said, being sure to sound like he was still high off of Nathan. "Fuck him. And after him, you can fuck me harder."

"Not a problem," Nathan chuckled, heading back to the car as if he forgot something. Pete watched in confusion as Nathan opened the door and pulled him out. As if to answer the confused horny companion of his, Nathan simply answered, "You're going to watch, aren't you?" Silently, Pete grinned and winked at him as he followed Nathan's lead.

Dan was going to wish he never got in the way. Pete was sure of it.

* * *

The drive to Bob's motel was mostly silent. Frank reached into his pocket and grabbed the crinkled paper that directed them to the new motel before he became secluded in a corner of the car. Gerard seemed like he was back to his old self, nurturing and telling Frank that everything was okay. Frank seemed back to his old self as well, quietly crying and sobbing. There was only so much comforting Gerard could do while driving, so Frank wasn't littered with Gerard's attention until they reached the new motel. Frank had fallen asleep during the way there, but Gerard didn't bother to wake him up. In fact, he hadn't wanted to wake Frank up but did so accidentally when he tried to carry him into the motel. Frank was against it, waking up and opting to walk on his own. When they got into the assigned room, Frank made sure to in the middle, far away from the door and windows as possible.

With one look, Gerard could tell that Frank was still a bit traumatized. From the position where he was down on the ground, it was gut wrenching just watching his angel struggle to get down. That's when he decided it was time for him to step up and encourage Frank to let go. And he was waiting for Frank down there, arms extended like he had promised. Of course, the two of them stumbled onto the floor, earning a bruise on Gerard's back, and a tear in his hoodie. But who was he to complain? Frank's shirt was completely torn from the window, pulling and yanking. And he had been bleeding a little from the window as well. And if he hadn't bled from there, he had definitely started bleeding when his arms and head collided with the ground. There was a bruise on Frank's cheek; all these bruises seem to fit right at home, though, if one looked at the grander scope of the body that belonged to Frank Iero.

But Gerard didn't have time to sit and look in awe. Frank was hurt, Pete was in there, and the car was all the way down the street. He had to practically carry both Frank and the bag Frank went up for down to the car. He hadn't understood what was going on when Frank first ushered him out, so he had stayed behind; fuming, naturally. They just had an argument about keeping things from each other, and here he was doing it again. But as time went on, Gerard found himself at the front of the motel. There was a cab, but the driver was busy looking inside. Following his gaze, Gerard looked inside as well to see why Frank had pushed him out.

And when he saw Pete chatting it up with a nervous Dan, Gerard felt like shit for snapping at Frank. Frank had even been trying to tell him, hadn't he? Frank's last words repeated in Gerard's head, and he slapped his forehead when he realized what Frank had been trying to tell him.

_"I think that's P—"_

A hiccup interrupted Gerard from his thoughts and he joined Frank down on the dirty rug, engulfing him in a hug. Frank just let more tears flow and he tried to apologize for his composure. "I-I'm s-so so—"

"Shh," Gerard urged him, kissing his forehead. "It's okay, babe."

"B-but I didn't tell you about Pete," Frank said, tears welling in his eyes again.

"I know now," Gerard said, chuckling a bit to himself. His attention immediately turned to the holes in Frank shirt, as well as the bruise on Frank's cheek. "Are you okay?" he softly asked.

Frank nodded, not sure what to say as Gerard pulled his shirt off and inspected him. Even if he wasn't 'okay,' what the hell was any one going to do about it? He wasn't going to let Gerard send him to the hospital, either. He just had a few scratches on himself, and he could deal with that; he had been dealing with since yesterday, hadn't he?

Gerard shook his head as he eyed Frank's face again, running his thumb across Frank's lips. Frank misunderstood the act and thought Gerard was extremely disappointed. But to be sure, he asked, "You're not mad?"

"As stupid as it sounds Frankie," Gerard admitted to his worried boyfriend, "it took the sight of you clinging to the window to let me see how stupidly I've wasted our last few hours." Gerard moved the hair from Frank's face so he could see Frank's beautiful eyes, despite the tears they held. "If anything, you were so fucking brave Frankie. So brave."

"Thank you for catching me," Frank said, a sob escaping his lips before he attempted to recompose himself.

"Thank you for saving me, Frankie," Gerard said, lovingly gazing at Frank. "Go to sleep, baby," he urged. "You've been up for a while."

"But—"

"Don't worry," Gerard assured him. "Close your eyes, hun."

And for the first time that day, Frank allowed himself to do just that. It wasn't that much harder to do so since he and Gerard had escaped, and now had a place to crash for the night. It was tomorrow when he'd have to worry. Besides, a little five-minute nap wouldn't hurt…


	58. Scared Of Lonely

**Scared Of Lonely**

Frank woke up to the sound of sniffling.

He was quiet about it, though. For minutes, he rested against Gerard's chest as his boyfriend silently sobbed to himself, rubbing Frank's back. With tired eyes, Frank looked at the nightstand and saw that it was 2:48 A.M.; both he and Gerard should have been asleep. If anything, though, Frank was finding it hard to fall back asleep. That's what he got for allowing himself to sleep so early in the afternoon.

Gerard gave another sniffle as he cuddled with Frank, murmuring a barely audible, 'I'll always love you' against Frank's (what he thought to be) sleeping body. Frank tensed at the confession and a few tears came to his eyes as well, but he quickly blinked them away. Now was not the time for crying. Today was the day Gerard would be handing himself in to the authorities. Frank would have all the time in the world to cry after Gerard and he were separated. But as of now, he had to remain strong. He owed that to Gerard.

Frank waited until Gerard's sniffling died down before he gently got out of Gerard's grasp. Gerard shuffled after feeling some movement, but never actually woke up to investigate. Instead, he sniffled, burying his head into his pillow. Frank wanted nothing more than to snuggle with his boyfriend that moment and tell him that everything would be all right, but he couldn't. He couldn't because he knew that was a damn lie; things would not be all right, and he was sure he'd never see Gerard again. At least, he'd never see Gerard again if his parents had anything to do with it. Then again, he was eighteen now…and he had access to his own bank accounts. He was utterly determined to drain out all the money on Gerard's behalf.

Frank shivered as he left the bed. The bitter November air whipped past him, and he clutched his chest protectively. It had been so warm while he was under Gerard's grip. Now, he was freezing. But who was he to be picky? If anything, he should have been grateful that Dan found him this place.

Dan…he owed that man so much, too: for taking them in for helping them out. And most importantly, for saving his ass when Pete decided to show up at his door. He would pay him, if he could. In person, after Gerard was sent to jail. That was right up there on his to-do list, along with beating the shit out of Pete.

Frank couldn't go to sleep; not while he knew he and Gerard only had a few hours together. The thought made him want to cry, but he forced himself not to. It was funny how old habits can sometimes naturally kick back into gear when you need them.

Quietly, Frank walked over to the window and gazed out into the dark morning sky. The view was peaceful and serene. There was even a nicer view of a park out in the back. They were far away from Newark now, Frank knew. Of course, Frank had no idea where they were. He was asleep on the way here. And even if he had been awake, any place that wasn't Newark was 'far,' considering that he'd never been away from Newark except for that one time when he and Gerard went to N.Y.

But Frank didn't want to see that pretty park out in back. He didn't like the clean paint on the walls of their 'temporary' home. He didn't like the fact that they weren't back in Newark, but out somewhere, probably closer to the vicinity of the funeral. They weren't home, back in room 16. This wasn't the room where he and Gerard had grown closer in. It wasn't the room that Gerard and he had lived in, fought in, made love in, cried in, laughed in…

Instead, this room represented the end of all things he loved. And he hated it.

Gerard gave another quiet sniffle in his sleep and Frank's eyes darted in that direction. He was wide-awake now, but that was only natural since he had slept the whole day away. Gerard had probably been up all day doing god-knows-what, getting ready for the funeral tomorrow.

Speaking of funeral, Frank noticed he never actually found out where the funeral actually was. With that thought in mind, Frank went on his phone and debated whether or not he wanted to risk calling his mother. Pete was honestly the last person he wanted to speak to. Fucker cost him a lot today. He'd spent the day sleeping and…the window. He had forgotten about the window, the scars that should be on his body now thanks to that damned piece of glass that refused to be moved.

Quietly, Frank groped around in the dark as he tried to find the bathroom, preoccupied with inspecting his scars. He stumbled a bit, causing Gerard to stir. But he eventually made it to the bathroom without waking Gerard up. He fumbled a bit before he found the switch and flipped it, immediately squinting his eyes afterwards.

He looked different.

The boy that had left and ran from home four months ago had changed from that timid child into a hardened young adult. His eyes were no longer huge and innocent, teary and sad. They were slit and angry, hard and threatening. There was a cut on his cheek from one of the small rocks that he landed on when he dropped, but it seemed to be healing. And the hair…he no longer wore his shoulder-length hair, bouncy and curly at the ends. No. Now, it was short, sharp, and edged around his face, nicely displaying his body piercings. Before, he'd been ashamed on the piercings. But not anymore: he was proud of them. They were his fucking trophies, now. They didn't have to stand for what they were, but he could make them stand for something else, something better. He'd never forget what Gerard told him, how he made him feel.

Which was why he looked as angry, tired, and disgusted as he did now.

He swore hell would break loose tomorrow—today, he meant. If Gerard left, not only would their time together die, but the Frank Gerard knew and loved would die as well. There would be no point in Frank doing otherwise, no one else in the world would ever deserve an ounce of the true Frank like he gave Gerard. No. Once Gerard left, Frank couldn't give a flying shit about the rest of the world. The one time when he was happy, they were quick to take Gerard away. Well, fuck them all. They would get what was coming to them.

Quietly, he raised the new shirt he had on. Gerard must have re-dressed him, he realized as his fingers curved around the new fabric. He slowly pulled up, revealing the embedded marks from the glass decorating his stomach. There was one really bad one, Frank figured, because there was a band-aid on it: a 'Kermit the frog' one, at that. Frank smiled as he aimlessly traced it, biting his lower lip.

Gerard was cute. And despite Frank's efforts, a tear escaped and rolled down his cheek, his vision blurring as the band-aid morphed into blue and green.

Frank was going to miss their time together so fucking much…

* * *

Six more hours.

That was how much longer Mrs. Iero had to wait before she would have her son back. (no thanks to the fucking police or husband, but to Pete). She gave a small chuckle, not believing her luck. She thought she would hate Pete for what she thought he'd done, only to find out they had a lover's quarrel…a quarrel Gerard got in the way of. As soon as this was over, she would sign her son over to Pete if she had to. If that was what it took to keep Frank from running away again, like Pete suggested, she'd do it. Frank needn't be ashamed if he loved another man, especially if that man was Pete.

There was shuffling on the other end of the hotel room and Irene sat up to see a dark figure standing by the window. A smile, despite her efforts, reached her lips. Pete really did care. Look at how worried he was! Argh, her son was so spoiled. Couldn't he see, if not feel the love Pete had for him?

"Can't sleep either?" she asked, sitting up in the bed. Pete shook his head, sighing.

He really couldn't: not when he knew there were just a few hours left. He was antsy. You would be, too, if your fuck-toy was coming home. Sure, he'd been having sex while Frank was gone, but none of them were Frank. He needed to be inside Frank, craved him like a drug addiction. And to know that in six hours and ten minutes Frank could be under him, writhing…it was hard to go to sleep with something like that.

"Not really," Pete told her, backing away from the window. He walked over and sat on his bed, laying facedown. "Mmmishim."

"Hm," Irene replied, nodding. "I miss him, too."

The two remained in the room, silence taking over their atmosphere.

"So, you took a look at the motel they stayed at," she cautiously asked, and Pete grumbled. That encounter did not turn out the way he wanted it at all. He hated when he wasn't prepared.

"Mea?"

"How was it?" she asked, scared. Pete couldn't help but chuckle at her uneasiness. How embarrassing must it be for an Iero to stay in a crappy place like that? Oh no, the world is going to end!

"It was fine…like a motel," Pete replied, shrugging as he sat up. "Frank was there, though."

"Was he?" she asked, her voice rising. "Why isn't he here?"

"He left before I got there, Irene," Pete said, frustrated. "Do you think I would leave if Frank was there, in front of me? I would have fucking…"

"How…how do you know he was there for sure?"

"The owner," Pete said with contempt. "Dan."

At least he remembered his name now. Stupid fucker wasn't as much as a pushover like Pete had thought. He'd learned that the hard way. He and Nathan had entered the motel, thinking that they were going to have their way with Dan. Little did they know that while they went out, Dan ran to his desk to retrieve the same gun he had once pointed at Gerard. Needless to say, Nathan nearly shit his pants and drove off in his taxicab, leaving Pete there. And Pete was left to angrily shake his fist and walk to the nearest bus station.

Fucker got him good, and he couldn't help but think that Frank was somehow involved. He'd heard him, afterall.

"So you think he's going to be here today?" Irene eventually asked, sorry she even brought up the motel thing in the first place. Pete seemed so broken, but she could understand why. He had been so sure he'd get Frank, and now he wasn't there.

"His ass better be there," Pete quietly said, shaking his head. "I'm going to go crazy if he isn't."

"He hasn't asked for the place," Irene stated, a bit worried now. "Did you tell him last night?"

"Yeah," Pete lied, recalling the time when Frank called his mother's cell phone. That's what should have happened, but it didn't. Fuck it, he'd have to text him then. But instead of letting Mrs. Iero in the know, he simply turned to her and promised, "I told him. He'll be there."

* * *

Two hours had passed since Frank sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the dark walls. He couldn't bring himself to do anything, couldn't bring himself to text anyone about the whereabouts of the funeral, or call. If he did, he risked having to speak to Pete. He didn't want to deal with him now. He was still angry, and he wasn't sure how the phone conversation would go. He didn't have what it took right now to stomach Pete's remarks. Plus, after what he told him the last time they spoke, Frank was sure Pete would have something to say.

Almost 5:00 A.M. Funeral service was at 9:00 A.M. Plus, Frank had no idea where the hell they were, close to Bergen County or not. They should have been. He asked Dan about that, didn't he?

Speaking of the devil…

Frank's cell phone began to vibrate and caller I.D. confirmed that it was Dan. With a bit of happiness in his heart, he picked up the phone and headed over to the bathroom, locking the door. He didn't want to wake Gerard up.

"Frank?"

"Dan!" he happily whispered back. "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me," Dan said, shrugging it off as if he wasn't about to be sexually assaulted today. "Although now that I've met Pete in person, I can testify that he is a creepy fucker. I'm sorry you had to deal with him."

Frank gave a small chuckle. That was okay. Pete was his past. Gerard was his present and future. "Why?" he curiously asked. "What'd he do to you? Did he crack a bad joke or something?"

"He and some other dude tried to jump me—"

"What?" Frank hissed. "He did what?"

"Frank, it's okay," Dan chuckled. "You saw the type of people I hang out with. Remember Bob?"

"Yeah, but—"

"And I have a gun, too."

"You what?" Frank asked, amazed. "No way. You definitely just made that up."

"No, I didn't," Dan laughed. "I actually pointed it at Gerard one day…go ask him."

"He's sleeping," Frank replied, still amazed. "No way."

"Way."

"How come Gerard got to see it?" Frank asked curiosity getting the best of him.

"He never told you?" Dan asked. "It was the day when…oh yeah…you ran away that day."

"I didn't run away," Frank said, defending himself.

"You were going to."

"But I didn't," Frank said. "I simply went on an…errand, if you will."

"Bullshit."

Frank giggled lightly and Dan chuckled as well. He was still a bit jittery about the whole ordeal with Pete and that dude coming at him. Thank god he got to his desk in time.

"You know, Pete is much scarier in person," Dan admitted.

"He is," Frank agreed. "It's even scarier when he's doing things to you that you can't get him to stop…"

"And that's why I got my gun," Dan said, bringing the conversation back to a full circle. "Fucker didn't mess with me then."

"I still don't believe you have a gun," Frank said, eyes wide. "Why'd you point it at Gerard?"

"That day was the day I learned about you and Gerard, and Pete and the murder…kinda threw me off."

"Oh," Frank said, looking at the sink. There wasn't much he could say there. He had kept it from Dan as well. "Heard from the T.V.?"

"Heard from the T.V."

"Oh," he said again, looking at the toilet. The toilet was dirty as fuck, but it reminded him of Dan's motel. He missed it.

"Sorry about not saying anything," Frank finally apologized, and Dan shrugged it off.

"Doesn't matter."

"Yeah it does," Frank said. "You would have shot my boyfriend if you were angry enough."

"Honestly, it was all for show," Dan said. "But who needs to know that? It got Gerard to start singing like a fucking canary and got Pete and his little buddy the fuck out of there."

"So you aren't there now?"

"Nope. Home. How'd you know?"

"You said that it got them out of there, instead of 'here.' It was a guess."

"Very fastidious, huh?" Dan said, chuckling. Frank grinned, looking at the marks on his skin.

"You could say that," he murmured, smirking. "But why're you home?"

"You guys were my last tenants," Dan reminded him. "And I've been thinking of closing the place down for a while now, so…yeah."

"Oh."

There was silence on the phone line for a while before Dan broke the silence.

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Get out?" Dan said, finally getting to the core. "I saw you and Gerard enter, I saw you shove him out, and I saw you run upstairs. But by the time I got there, you were gone. What happened?"

"Thank you for what you did," Frank said, deciding to tell him after the thanks. Dan replied with 'no problem' but still demanded to know what happened behind the closed door.

"I, uh…I jumped out the window," Frank admitted, and Dan gasped.

"That window?" he asked, recalling the screeching noises. "Frank, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I'm alive, though," Frank tried. "Gerard was there to catch me."

"Let me rephrase that," Dan said. "What the fuck is wrong with the both of you?"

"I'm okay."

"You could have died."

"I know."

"You're crazy."

"I know."

"So's Gerard."

Frank chuckled here. "Yeah."

After a moment of silence, Dan muttered, "You guys deserve each other."

"Thank you, good sir."

"Oh definitely," Dan commented, shaking his head. Frank giggled.

"But seriously, you're okay?" Dan asked. "That window refused to open again, you know? And I wasn't about to try and open it. Not with all those edges on the bottom. How'd you even manage…?"

"It was hard to open, but I tried to slide through," Frank admitted.

"Didn't…didn't that hurt?"

"It didn't even register in my mind," Frank admitted. "I was just…so focused to get out of that fucking room, back next to Gerard…I forgot I even had them until I looked at the scars a few hours ago. That's when I woke up."

There was silence on the other end, but Frank could imagine Dan shaking his head.

"Were you that scared of Pete?"

"No," Frank immediately replied. "Yeah, maybe he caught me off guard. I'll give him that. But I'm not scared of him anymore. I was more scared at the thought of Gerard, standing out there not knowing what the fuck was going on, or me getting captured without Gerard knowing, and Gerard getting captured before he could go to the funeral and see his little brother…we weren't supposed to turn ourselves in then, and doing so would ruin everything. Imagine if…if I never even got to say goodbye to Gerard?" Frank asked, blinking away tears. He cleared his throat as well, before he tried to crack a joke.

"So the only solution was to throw myself out the window, you know. Completely reasonable, huh?"

"Completely," Dan agreed, joking as well. But his tone became serious as he cleared his own throat. "Actually, that's kinda why I called, too. I never properly got to thank you guys for everything."

"Like what?" Frank asked, snorting. "Causing you drama and grief? There's nothing to thank us for."

"There is, Frank," Dan said. "And maybe you won't realize it now, but you will."

"Hm." Frank had nothing to say to that. Gerard told him the same thing a while ago. 'You don't realize it now, but you will in the future.' Bull-fucking-shit.

"Good luck, Frank," Dan finally said, nearing the end of the telephone call. "Tell that to Gerard for me, will you?"

"I will," Frank said, nodding. "And…thank you for everything, Dan. Especially for these last couple of hours."

"No problem," Dan said, smiling.

"Thank you so much for the place to stay, the car…"

"I don't mind at all," Dan said. "I mean, how else would you two make it to Berlin County?"

Frank gave a small laugh before he agreed. "Yup. Greatly appreciated."

"No problem," Dan repeated again. "Although I've got to admit that I thought it was weird that your mom wanted the funeral in South New Jersey of all places."

"No, the funeral's in Northern New Jersey," Frank replied. "Bergen County, you know? One of the richest Counties in all of Jersey."

"Then what the fuck are you two doing in Berlin Heights?" Dan asked, and Frank could detect the worry.

"Why on Earth would we be in Berlin, Dan?" Frank slowly asked, fear seizing his throat. "Didn't you just ask if we made it to Bergen County?"

"I said Berlin. _Berlin_."

"You said 'County' after it, though."

"Same thing," Dan replied, nervous. "Frank…Bergen County's a good two hours away…without the traffic. Are you sure you're talking about the right place?"

"Yeah!" Frank said, clearly concerned. "R-Really?"

"Frank, Bergen County's only about 30 minutes away from where the motel was," Dan said. "If I knew, I could have simply invited you guys into my home or something…but I thought since you guys had to head on over to Berlin Heights/County/whatever, I should hand you over to Bob…oh jeez."

"Fuck," Frank murmured, the fear creeping in his voice.

"Holy shit, Frank," Dan said, "I'm so sorry."

"No, it's…it's okay," Frank lied. "We can still make it to Bergen County if we leave now, right? I mean, it's 5:00 A.M. right now…in two to three hours it'll be 8:00 A.M. It fits perfectly. We can wait an hour…no, it's fine."

"What about your sleep?"

"I'll have all the time in the world to sleep after this is over," Frank sourly commented, although his sour attitude was not directed at Dan, per say: just the situation.

"I'm really sorry," he said again, and Frank shrugged it off.

"Better I found that out now instead of four hours later, you know?" Frank said. "Thanks Dan. And I will definitely be sure to tell Gerard you called, okay?"

There was silence on the line before Dan let out a quiet 'okay.' He knew that Frank had said it was okay, but if anything had happened…if he hadn't decided to call Frank when he did, the two would have had a horrible ending.

"Now, go to sleep," Frank playfully demanded, but his tone saddened as he continued with, "Enjoy your first day of freedom."

* * *

"Gerard, wake up baby."

With all the energy Gerard could muster, Gerard rubbed his eyes until he could force them to open on his own. His mind flashed back to the times when he woke up confused back during the early stages of the kidnap. He'd had to remind himself time and time again that he wasn't home, but staying at a dingy motel with Frank until things cooled down. But today, he needed no help to remember where he was, or why he was doing what he was. Today, he would see Mikey for the last time, before handing himself in. Honestly, he was just as tired running from the police as he was with the whole situation. There had to be another way to settle this. Maybe jail was the answer.

"We've got a three hour trip ahead of us, babe," Frank continued quietly, feeling foolish.

"I thought you said we were in the right place?" Gerard stated, rolling over to the other side. Frank gave a sigh and bit his lower lip.

"I…I was wrong."

"Were you, now?"

"Uh-huh."

Gerard let out a sigh of his own and quietly asked for the time.

"Five-thirty," he replied, cheeks burning. "I'm sorry. Dan called and then we found out there was a mistake…"

"Dan called?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," Gerard replied, still in bed, head resting against his pillow. Frank stared at Gerard, a Gerard he did not know, and quietly tried to fade into the background. It seemed like Gerard wanted to be left alone. He couldn't blame him. Besides, Gerard was now awake and aware of their circumstance. He no longer had to worry about if they made it there on time, but he couldn't help but feel responsible for getting them further away from Bergen County than they were initially. Back in Newark, Bergen County would have been a mere 30 minutes away.

"You ready?" Gerard finally asked, getting up and yawning.

"No."

"Neither am I," Gerard admitted, slowly trudging to the bathroom. "But the show must go on, right Frankie?"

And with that, Gerard shut the bathroom door, leaving Frank alone in the darkness as his thoughts consumed him.


	59. If You Said Goodbye To Me Tonight

**If You Said Goodbye To Me Tonight...**

Pete smiled to himself as the purple hoodie wrapped around his body, making him snug. He had waited forever for this day, and though he had yet to figure out if Frank really planned on making an appearance, he had a feeling he would show up. He already had directions saved on his phone, ready in an instant to be texted to the boy if he ever asked. Besides, Frank had to show up. If he didn't, his absence would make Gerard a fugitive on the FBI's list. That's what happened when you allegedly fucked a kid and kidnapped him, especially a kid belonging to the Ieros. Mikey's death by that point hadn't even played a significant role yet. Add that to the list, and Gerard was done for.

Today was going to be Pete's fucking day.

Not too far away from Pete was Irene, who was busy putting on her makeup as the two of them ran through plans one last final time. "So we're gonna take the funeral outside, since the weather is nice and all," Irene started, reading off from her PDA. "And we're going to leave for outside during the last thirty minutes, so those two have until 9:00 a.m. to show up."

For a moment, Pete was thrown aback. Was the funeral only an hour, or what?

"What's wrong Pete?" she asked, making her way over to the mirror he was using. "You looked confused," she continued, putting on her eyeliner.

"I kinda am," he admitted, running his hands through his hair.

"And what's that horrible shirt on for?" she asked, looking at it closely. "Purple checkered?"

"It's Frank's favorite," he lied, smiling. "This sweater brings him back lots of good memories…"

Irene simply nodded. There wasn't much she could say to that. Had this funeral been the real deal, she would have urged him to change. But this was a fake funeral. Even if it were real, she still wouldn't care because it was the funeral for the fucking creep Gerard, and if he was a creep, so was his brother and those associated with him. Plus, today was all about Frank. If Pete said Frank loved that ugly checkered sweater, then Pete was going to wear that purple mess.

After clearing his throat, Pete continued with the more important thing. "So's the funeral only an hour long?" he asked. "I thought it started at eight?"

"Well, yeah," she verified. "But it's a quick and fake funeral. Besides, you said so yourself that his family isn't that well off. Maybe the best they could manage was an hour long funeral for their pathetic son. And they invited us so we politely accepted the offer. No harm done."

She smiled to herself in the mirror as she thought about the first thing she'd do to Frank when he was back home, where he belonged. Surely, he'd be punished, but that would come later. She would give him everything he'd ever wanted, cars, money, and Pete included. He'd never want to run away from home again. And her husband could suck it for all she cared. Once her baby was back, that was all that mattered.

She sighed as she patted Pete on the shoulder, grinning to herself once more as she mentally patted herself on the back for a job well done. "Hurry up," she told Pete, licking her lips as she tasted a hint of victory in the air. "Setup's in an hour."

* * *

The drive to the funeral home was silent.

For the first hour or so, the only thing that broke the silence was the sound of the morning radio show on the current station, 97.1 Rock. Gerard wasn't fazed with the music being played at all; his mind was far too busy coming to terms with the fact that today was the day and, in another hour or so, he and Frank would be calling it quits.

Frank was in a similar state of mind; he didn't know how to react. With the household he came from, nothing had ever been taken away from him. He was used to receiving more things than necessary, regardless of whether it was wanted or not; but never had he lost something that couldn't be replaced. What was he going to do once Gerard was taken away? What could he do?

Things became a bit more bearable during the second hour of their drive. Gerard actually hummed along to a couple of the songs (Frank took a mental note of which ones he'd be putting on 'repeat' later on) and he even tried to strike a conversation. The boy was skeptical at first with whether he should entertain Gerard's questions, because Gerard hadn't been himself these last couple of days. He didn't want to say something that would get Gerard angry or unreasonable, cause him to speed or do something equivalently rash, and then die.

Then again, if they died together maybe that wouldn't be a bad idea…

Frank shook his head at the last thought. It was too risky, indeed. Even if they did get into an accident, what would most likely happen is that they would cause a huge traffic jam, police would get involved, and they would be taken away on the spot. Or maybe just one of them would die, which would be worse than Gerard going to jail (Frank felt). You see had Gerard died, Frank would feel guilty because he decided to entertain Gerard's questions and purposely make him angry, he decided to agree with his mother and let Gerard know there was a funeral for his little brother taking place, and (four or so months ago) he decided to run to Gerard rather than face his own problems with Pete.

So yeah…guilt was a huge issue: that, and the fact that Frank would probably become very suicidal or homicidal. It depended on his surroundings for that one.

Besides, if Frank had died in this supposed 'accident,' then he would be leaving Gerard defenseless. Who out there would actually fight for Gerard's innocence, if not Frank? Who else actually could fight that fight on justified grounds? His parents hated him, his own brother was dead, and Pete was bent on destroying him for taking Frank away. It would not be pretty.

"So, the funeral's today," Gerard finally spoke as the song ended, briefly turning his head to catch a glimpse of Frank after driving on the road for a good 90 minutes. "You know that, right?"

Frank waited as another song started before he answered Gerard. It was one of Billy Joel's songs, and Frank quickly shut it off. Now was not the time. Maybe he would have listened to it before he and Gerard were in this predicament, but now they had only precious time. That precious time was not going to be spent listening to music.

"Is that a trick question?" Frank asked, raising a brow as he gave Gerard his full attention. Today was Friday, and it was nearing eight o'clock. The funeral was today…it had to be. Or was it yesterday? Had he missed it? That would be both good and bad…

Gerard playfully rolled his eyes and shook his head while he watched Frank hyperventilate. Once Frank noticed Gerard chuckling at his gullibility, his eyes turned to slits and he crossed his arms as he faced the window.

"Thank you for that," Frank sarcastically responded. "That's exactly what I needed right now."

"You worry too much," Gerard admitted, chuckling. Frank gave him a glare, but Gerard continued laughing at his little comment.

"Laugh now," Frank told him, muttering. But Frank understood where Gerard was coming from. Gerard refused, it seemed, to go to jail on a sour note. And since he loved Gerard, he was going to have to try to do the same. Keyword: try.

Frank sighed, trying to keep calm as the minutes quickly passed. Just then, his phone started vibrating and he reached for it in an attempt to shut it off. However his intentions changed once he noticed who it was calling him.

"Who's it?" Gerard asked, and Frank gave a shrug. It's not like he had to say anything, because Gerard immediately knew the answer.

But Frank didn't want to ruin his optimism before it even started, so he overcame the urge to leave Pete hanging and ultimately texted Pete. Surprisingly enough, Pete texted him a response concerning the directions to the funeral home without any smart ass or disturbing messages. Something, Frank realized, was up. Then again, Gerard was the most important issue at hand, and Pete did say that he was going to attend to matters today. He'd said he was so busy that he'd probably have to skip the funeral. Frank hoped to God that the efficiency with how quickly he responded fell in line with the fact he wouldn't be there, and that he was way too busy to be there anyway.

But rather than take chances, Frank texted Pete what he wanted to know: Y_ou gonna be there_? And much to his pleasure, Pete answered within seconds the answer he'd been dying to hear.

_No._

"So what were you two talking about?" Gerard asked, startling Frank as he set his phone down. Frank shook his head, chuckling as he caught his breath.

"Nothing." He couldn't let Gerard know that he'd _just _now found out the directions. How embarrassing would it be that he was prepared for everything _but _the actual matter at hand?

"Are you sure about that?" Gerard asked, and Frank couldn't help but offer a smile in embarrassment. Quite easily, it was misinterpreted.

"So he's funny now?" Gerard bitterly asked, smirking along with Frank. Part of him couldn't help but feel jealous at the curve of Frank's lips while he thought about whatever texting conversation they just had. But Gerard knew he was looking too much into it, so he tried to hold his jealousy under control. Plus, it was something he had to get used to. Frank would no longer be his in an hour…or less.

"What makes you say that?" Frank asked, the smile still on his lips. He scoffed as he tried to play it off, relaxing against the passenger seat. "The guy's a jerk."

"What do you mean?" Gerard asked. "He's obviously got you smiling."

"I'm not smiling," Frank said, sitting up. "I'm…I'm…"

But there was nothing he could say once he became aware of his actions. That had been why his lips had been hurting. He had been smiling…still. But that had been out of his foolish decision to procrastinate on such an important matter. Pete had nothing to do with it, nothing whatsoever. Well, maybe Pete's only contribution was the fact that he wouldn't be there. That was something to smile about, right?

"Gerard." Frank could almost imagine the jealousy Gerard was trying to maintain. He couldn't blame him, though. Had he been in Gerard's shoes, he would have felt the same way. How could he be laughing and supposedly texting happily with the man he claimed to hate, though he was laughing at his own mistakes? Gerard couldn't read his mind.

Frank was about to plead his case when he was interrupted by a vibrating noise. Cautiously, he pulled it out to see that his mother was calling him, no doubt trying to figure out if he was coming or not. He ignored her and the phone rang for another minute before Frank interrupted the vibrations, touching Gerard's arm as he pointed to the right. His mother would figure out soon enough. He had just asked for and received the directions to the place from Pete. Then again, maybe she and Pete weren't by each other, which meant Pete was telling the truth for once in his life…

"Exit 20, Gerard," Frank said, eyes glued to the phone as he continued to ponder silently to himself. He absentmindedly pointed to his right again, the general location of where such an exit would be.

He didn't want it to ring again. The two of them only had this moment to make things right before it would all go downhill. And with the new silence that overcame the two of them, Frank was sure something was off. He was determined to show Gerard that nothing was going on in his heart for Pete, despite the misleading signs he had just given.

"Huh?" Gerard asked, seemingly startled from whatever it was he was thinking. Frank pointed again to the exit approaching them and it finally registered with Gerard that he should start switching lanes.

As they exited the highway and entered a major road in whatever city they were in, Frank became worried. Gerard had been so much like his old self before this moment. Gerard had to know that Frank would never betray him like that. But as soon as he opened his mouth to explain, much to Frank's displeasure the cell phone started vibrating again.

"You should get that," Gerard mumbled, before nonchalantly drumming his fingers against the wheel. Frank angrily took the phone and shut it off, throwing it in the back as he grasped Gerard's cheek. He'd had all the information he could possibly want.

"Baby, listen to me."

"I'm driving," was Gerard's curt response. "How about we wait until I reach the Funeral Home, hm?"

"Are you nuts?" Frank asked. "Wait to mend our relationship?"

"Nothing's wrong with it," Gerard said.

"Yes there is," Frank retorted. "We aren't exactly fine right now."

"Well, we shouldn't be," Gerard said, stopping at the traffic light he approached. As Frank struggled for a comeback, Gerard moved on, asking, "Where to next?"

"I don't know," Frank mumbled. "I threw my phone at the back."

"I thought you had it all 'up there,'" Gerard asked, pointing at his head as Frank looked back.

"I actually just got the directions from Pete," Frank admitted finally, blushing like he was before. Then he added, "That's…that's kinda why I was texting…and smiling."

Frank could tell Gerard understood because Gerard nodded slowly before looking away. Frank could imagine that he felt stupid for overreacting, but he didn't care about that now.

In order to make the atmosphere less awkward, Frank continued talking. "But, um…if I can remember, the street started with a D," Frank said, just as the light turned green. Gerard's eyes remained on Frank, staring at his boyfriend as if he were a wounded animal in need of protection. In a matter of a couple of miles, no matter how much they both knew it was the right thing to do, they would be separated.

A car behind the two of them honked loudly, forcing Gerard to drive onward. Their eyes disconnected and the silence grew as Frank silently urged for Gerard to speak to him again. But when that did not seem likely, Frank climbed into the backseat to find his phone.

"Are you sure about that Frankie?" Gerard finally asked him, and Frank blushed from hearing Gerard call him by his nickname. Even if they weren't talking, he couldn't have been that mad at him.

"Um…not really," Frank admitted again. "I'm looking though, I'm looking."

Eventually, Frank found his phone (wedged between the car-seats) and they made it to the Funeral Home in the next twenty minutes. The air around them got considerably lighter, but there was still gravity holding them down. It was obvious that, as much as Gerard tried to play it off, he was going to be extremely jealous and scared in jail. Sure, it was the right thing to do to let Frank go and have new relationships, but he would hate the fucker who stole Frank's heart next. Jealousy over Frank was nothing new; he'd been jealous before the two of them even went out.

Gerard pulled the key out of the ignition and played with it in his hands, drumming his fingers alongside the steering wheel in the process. Needless to say, he was extremely nervous. Frank looked at Gerard, waiting for him to make a move. But after the two of them sat in the car for two minutes without any progression, it was obvious neither of them were going to move anywhere until they discussed what needed to be discussed.

Finally, Gerard took a deep breath before he faced Frank. Maybe he could break it off now, give Frank up away from him before giving him up to the world. Licking his lips as he made his decision, he murmured, "Frank, I…maybe it would be best if—"

"Best if what?" Frank asked in an accusatory tone. He hoped to God Gerard wasn't doing what he thought he was doing. But as he saw how much Gerard struggled to keep his eyes locked with his own, he knew.

"No," Frank said, cutting Gerard off. "What's your fucking problem, Gerard?"

"Look, I'm gonna have to get over it anyway!" Gerard said, hitting the wheel. He still avoided eye contact with Frank though.

"But it's obvious that you can't," Frank said, referring to the jealousy. "And I won't."

"You could at least try," Gerard muttered, running his hands through his hair. "Fuck it, Frank. You've got your whole life ahead of you."

"And if I want to spend it waiting for you, I will." Frank sat up straight before lifting Gerard's chin with his fingers. Their eyes linked and Frank could see Gerard falter with his decision. "I'll wait as long as I have to," he added.

"And what if it's too long?" Gerard asked, shaking his head. "Frank, I only took you to get you away from Pete."

"Yeah, right," Frank sarcastically threw back. "Bull-fucking-shit. It couldn't have been about Pete. You didn't know about him." Frank watched as Gerard blushed, and he smirked, his anger dissipating for a moment. "If you're gonna lie, do it right."

"Fine, you caught me," Gerard muttered. "But still!"

"No!" Frank said, shoving Gerard. "I'm not going to fucking get over you, so just drop it okay?"

"But then I'll be miserable in jail knowing that I may potentially be ruining your future—"

"And you'd be jealous anyway if I _had _a future with someone else, whether you'll admit it or not," Frank pointed out. "It's a lose-lose situation here, and in that case, I might as well choose the one that makes me happy…and force you to be happy, while I'm at it."

"But…what about—?"

"Shhh," Frank demanded, shifting in his seat so his lips could easily reach Gerard's face for a quick peck on the cheek. That shut Gerard up, and with Gerard quiet, Frank decided to continue.

"We love each other so much, Gee," Frank said, giving a sad smile. "And I've grown to depend on you for so many things. You make me happy, baby. And before I met you, I didn't know that it was even allowed to feel like this."

"I…I couldn't live with myself if I held you back," Gerard said, shaking his head. Then, with a deep breath he uttered aloud the lie he'd been telling to himself from a while ago. "The whole point of me kidnapping you honestly was not for merely Pete, but to show you what love can feel like. And now…now that I'm going to jail, I want you to find someone worthy enough for your love, Frankie." A tear rolled down Gerard's cheek and he quickly tried to wipe his eyes. "Fall in love again, babe."

"I'm already in love!" Frank gently snapped, wiping Gerard's tears as he crawled into his lap. Gerard held him gently to ensure he wouldn't fall off or hit the wheel and cause the car to honk. Then, their time would be over in a matter of seconds.

"Gerard Arthur Way," Frank murmured, tears threatening to fall from his own eyes. "I love you, and only you." Straddling Gerard, he leaned over and hugged him tightly.

"Un-love me, Frank," Gerard murmured, holding Frank tightly against his chest. "Un-fucking-love me."

"Never," Frank promised him, whispering into his skin. Gerard sobbed as Frank sucked on his neck, attaching his lips to Gerard's skin.

And as Frank intimately held Gerard, planting him with kisses, Gerard couldn't help but think about how far they'd come and how much he was giving up. It all seemed like it'd be pretty easy to do. But it wasn't.

This was _Frank Iero_ in his arms.

Where did it all start? How? Was it the fact that he learned about Pete that drove Gerard to him? Or was it earlier, when he saw Frank for the first time, saw how much of an outcast he was? The first time he managed to make Frank break some unspoken rule of his and grin at him, share that contagious grin of his while Gerard stupidly fooled around in the rolley chair?

Though Gerard had felt something for the boy, it was obvious the same feelings weren't openly returned from Frank at first either. He'd tried to get rid of him by offering him money. It was all an act, Gerard knew, because if Frank's parents were right about his anti-social life, it was expected. He knew Frank was just putting up a wall—a wall that he, and only he, seemed to be able to knock down.

And signs became more obvious that Frank and he were developing something for each other (whether they would acknowledge it or not) when he recalled the fact that Frank had told him his name on the first day, something that Tina wasn't expecting at all. And it shone through when Frank called him that one early morning, the morning when it all went downhill. Frank's innocence was extremely sweet, and past meaningless conversations the two of them had stuck in Gerard's mind as he held Frank close.

He should have been able to see the progress he'd made with Frank. He'd made him understand the world around him, made him understand it was okay to laugh and smile in front of others, made him see that it was okay to love, and that he deserved to be loved. He didn't have to hide any more, despite the fact that was what they'd been doing for the past couple of months.

It was obvious; no matter how much Gerard tried to sugar coat and lie to himself, he loved Frank too much to simply give him up. He needed Frank and for the first time in Frank's life, Frank needed someone. And Gerard craved him just as much. All he wanted at this moment was to make Frank his one last time. He wanted to taste Frank's sweat, feel Frank's heartbeat thud loudly against his ears, hear Frank's sweet cries from his incredible mouth, and see his Frankie basking in the afterglow of their undying love…even if it was only going to last until today.

Frank pulled away, with tears in his eyes as well. Gerard was thrown out of his thoughts as he gripped Frank tightly, securing his hold around Frank's hips. Slowly, he bucked his own hips forward, brushing against the young man atop him. Frank bit his lower lip as he tried to stay strong. Now was not the time to cry. Couldn't he tell Gerard 'goodbye' without making a sob-fest? True, Gerard had been crying before (he had every right to) but even now he was winding down. Frank had no reason to, though. It wasn't him who was about to be thrown in jail for life.

"I'm so sorry," Frank murmured, hiccupping afterward. He shut his eyes as he felt a fresh set of tears threaten to spill and he turned away in an attempt to regain composure. "I sh-should have stayed—"

"It's too late for that Frankie," Gerard muttered, kissing Frank's cheek as Frank blinked rapidly. "I love you now. And now that I've loved and love you the way I have, I'd do everything all over again." Upon admitting this to Frank, he held him firmly as his gentle upward thrusts became more defined. Frank's breath caught in his throat and he grasped Gerard firmly as well, grinding onto Gerard with just as much fervor.

"I wish I could do something for you," Frank moaned, frustrated at himself. "Fuck, Gerard…I'm gonna m-miss you."

"Then let me love you one last time," Gerard demanded, holding on to the side of the driver seat so he could make it recline. As soon as it reclined Frank made his place on top of Gerard and quickly removed all of his clothing, except his underwear. It wasn't long before Gerard's bare chest was teasing Frank as he remained fully clothed. Gerard slowed Frank down as he captured him by the lips, and it wasn't long before Frank gave way and let Gerard search every inch of his mouth.

Upon losing the tongue battle, Frank lost his dominance as Gerard pinned the young man underneath him. With shaky hands, Frank tried to undress himself, but he couldn't manage: not while he knew this might be the last time the two of them had sex, ever.

"Let me, baby," Gerard groaned, and Frank bit his lip to keep from moaning when Gerard's warm skin brushed by sensitive areas on his body. Soon enough, though, Frank's shirt and pants were discarded and thrown somewhere in the car.

His back arched as he felt Gerard squeeze his ass, and he permitted, if possible, more access for Gerard's tongue. Gerard's other hand was busy playing with Frank's nipple, his teeth nibbling on Frank's lip piercing. Frank was reduced to nothing but grasping at Gerard, begging for Gerard to continue as he grabbed Gerard's ass in return. Sexily, at least for Frank, Gerard bit down on him.

"Oh!" Frank gasped, eyes fluttering shut as he felt the sting on his bottom lip.

"You like that, baby?" Gerard murmured, before wrapping his hand around Frank's neck. He watched Frank's face turn red as he gasped in pleasure, and it reminded Gerard of the past scars probably littering Frank's body from similar past actions. His stomach wasn't as bad as it was a couple days ago, which was probably why it hadn't stood out to him at first. But the damage had been extensive, he had to say. Anyone looking at Frank for the first time would be able to tell.

Gerard let his thoughts consume him as he watched Frank's face turn a healthy red, and the young boy dug his nails into Gerard's back as he tried to catch a breath of air. "Gee," Frank finally gasped. "I c-can't—"

Immediately, Gerard let go. He didn't mean to choke Frank to that extent. But rather than look at his hands in shame and ruin the moment for Frank (he'd learned from their last sex talk), he busied himself lapping at Frank's past scars.

Frank lay beneath him, gasping once more as Gerard littered kisses on his stomach. Gerard had made him feel so high just then, and he had to open his stupid mouth and tell him he couldn't breathe. Fuck it, it'd felt so good too. But Gerard's tongue on his body wasn't too bad of a tradeoff. Before, he'd been so shy about the scars he had. But not now, when most of them (the new ones at least) had been Gerard's doing. Now, he treasured them.

Soon, Gerard's heated kisses went down south, and Frank quickly bucked his hips forward. Gerard chuckled at his eagerness, but Frank merely let out a strained groan. He was becoming hard, and fast. Gerard continued to tease Frank, encouraging Frank to thrust his hips forward. Frank, however, was becoming frustrated. He needed attention.

With a quick surge of power, Frank grabbed Gerard by the shoulders and threw him under. Slowly, he eased Gerard on up and he sexily rubbed himself against Gerard's lower stomach, panting as he licked Gerard's earlobe.

"Take off your pants," Frank demanded huskily. He ground shamelessly against the bulge growing underneath him, widening his legs in the process. "Oh my fuck, Gee…"

Quickly, Gerard scrambled to rid himself of clothing completely. Frank was practically begging for his cock. Now why would Gerard withhold from something like that?

"Love me, Gerard," Frank moaned, eyes shut as he felt Gerard free himself from his underwear. He could feel Gerard's hard-on leaking with pre-cum and he shuddered as it wet his lower stomach. It wouldn't be long before that would be happening in him. With that thought in mind, Frank dug his nails into Gerard's sides urging Gerard to fuck him soon. "Please…"

Instead, Gerard gripped Frank by his ass and gently but surely maneuvered the two of them into the backseat of the car. As soon as the two made it back there, Frank pushed the driver's seat back up. He stayed where he was, though, on the ground while Gerard sat in the seat. Gerard raised a brow, expecting Frank to crawl on top of him any minute now. But instead, Frank gave him a sinister grin and licked Gerard's inner thigh.

"F-Fuck, Frank!" Gerard squeaked, entrapping his hands in Frank's hair. Frank smiled smugly, looking up at Gerard as he sucked gently on Gerard's balls.

"Mmm, baby," he moaned, rubbing his face into Gerard's genitalia. He sucked harder as he felt Gerard's pre-juice leak onto his cheek, and finally gave in to Gerard's demands when Gerard forced his mouth onto his dick. Frank didn't mind the directness at all. He craved it, in fact.

"_Ughh_, Frank," Gerard grunted, slowly thrusting his hips. He didn't want to take Frank by surprise; he wanted Frank to enjoy this as much as he did. He wanted Frank to—

"Fuck!"

Gerard's eyes shot open as Frank gently nibbled on his length, opening his mouth to allow as much of Gerard as he could before sucking harshly as he pulled away. He repeated the cycle on end, moaning blissfully. With his hands in Frank's hair, Gerard urged Frank to continue what he was doing as he pulled Frank's face back down. But Frank maintained eye-contact, glued to his savior and angel that he would soon bid farewell to.

"Oh Frank," Gerard gasped, using both hands to grasp at Frank's head. Hurriedly, he began face-fucking his boyfriend. He didn't think about Frank's discomfort, because he had been with Frank long enough to know there was none. Frank loved quick and brutish, and that was exactly how Gerard operated.

Frank gagged countless times as Gerard fucked his mouth, only to regain his composure and suck harshly against Gerard's head with his expertly hallowed cheeks. Frank could tell Gerard was going to release soon, so he wasn't surprised at Gerard's erratic thrusts, or when Gerard finally jizzed deep in his mouth.

"Uhhh! _Fuck_!" Gerard hissed, violently jerking Frank's head around as he came down his throat. Frank started gagging as he grasped on to Gerard, but Gerard was intent of having his juices travel down Frank's throat.

"Swallow it," he instructed, grinding against Frank's craw. Frank started choking, but it was a pleasant feeling and he couldn't help but touch himself as Gerard made him swallow it all before rubbing his face on his privates once more.

Frank gasped in pleasure as he continued to suck on Gerard's balls, despite the fact that Gerard had already come. If anything, he wanted Gerard to come _again_. His face was wet and red from the gagging and rough movements, but he dove his face back onto Gerard's dick as he licked Gerard's balls, soon leading into the crook of his boyfriend's ass.

"Fucking suck me, Frank," Gerard ordered as he came off his high. The thrust of Frank's tongue inside his ass was quickly setting him off. "Oh, fuck," he gasped, widening his legs.

Frank moaned against Gerard's ass before he blew a raspberry, making Gerard shudder in pleasure. His back arched as Frank ran his hand across his lower back, and Gerard bit his lip to keep from moaning. He couldn't help it: he was used to simply grunting, since he usually did most of the work. It's not like he minded it, but the moans emitting from his mouth seemed foreign.

Frank felt the same way, but he welcomed it. Hearing Gerard moan like this was a rare occasion, and he knew he was doing something right. Determined, Frank played with the base of Gerard's balls as he lashed his tongue against him. He craved Gerard, he longed to feel the walls of his ass press back against him, longed to feel Gerard grind against him, longed to have Gerard's cum fill his mouth as he was ordered to swallow, longed to feel Gerard choke him like he did earlier on, longed to be hit…

"F-Fuck, Frank," Gerard stammered, holding on to the car-seat as he looked down to see the boy working his magic. "G-get up! Fucking get up here with me." Frank ignored him, continuing to suck on Gerard's ass until he felt Gerard pull him away.

"Get the fuck up," Gerard growled, pulling Frank. Frank obliged after being slapped on his ass and began kissing Gerard's inner thighs so he could finish what he started. It was going to be a little difficult, Frank realized as he heard Gerard bang his head against the car door. There was barely any space for the two of them, but he would manage.

Frank then focused his attention on Gerard's ass crack again as he went back down to business, and Gerard shamelessly widened his legs and arched his back.

"Oh fuck, Frank! Oh fuck!" Gerard cried, hands reaching down to pump himself. Frank shuddered after hearing Gerard call for him; he could hear the passion in Gerard's voice and it was making him high. So he turned around, having his back face the seat as he prepared to give Gerard the pleasure he was seeking. Now on his back, Frank threw his head far enough to reach the nooks and crannies of Gerard's midsection, nibbling on sensitive flesh.

Gerard growled in approval and completely lowered himself on Frank's face, hissing in pleasure as Frank's teeth scraped at his opening. Frank positioned himself to better accommodate at that angle and Gerard ground against Frank's face, slowly bending forward so that he could soon suck Frank off as well. Frank was too busy blowing raspberries and nibbling on Gerard's ass to notice that Gerard was bending over not from pleasure, but so he could suck him off. By the time he did realize, though, it was too late. Gerard had already taken the young boy in his mouth, throwing him off course for a moment.

"F-fuck, Gee," he murmured, shutting his eyes. He went back to his task at hand and continued sucking Gerard's skin. But as he felt Gerard dig his nails into his ass and fondle his sac, he decided it was time to stop teasing Gerard.

"Mmmm," Frank moaned, burying his head in Gerard's crack. He slipped his tongue far into Gerard's ass, gripping his thighs tightly as his head rose off of the car-seat. But as he lifted his head to accommodate, Gerard lowered his head and took more of Frank in. Two, Gerard felt, could play that game.

"Bho bwuk!" Frank groaned into Gerard's ass as he tried to compose himself long enough to continue kissing Gerard's ass. He used his teeth to gently nibble at Gerard and Gerard's tongue nearly gave Frank a heart attack with the way it lashed against his cock. Frank made out with Gerard's ass as passionately as he would have had it been Gerard's mouth, and it wasn't long before Gerard returned the favor.

"Gerard!" Frank breathlessly gasped, head against the car seat as he tried to clear his head. As Frank tried to get over the feeling so he could please Gerard, Gerard shoved his tongue in deeper. It wasn't on his agenda for Frank to 'clear' his head. He wanted Frank to feel liberated. He wanted Frank to become completely gone. He wanted, most importantly, for Frank to cum.

Intently, Gerard sucked on Frank's ass as he furiously pumped Frank's cock. Frank twitched, grasping tightly to Gerard's legs as he felt his pre-cum leak from his tip. He no longer wanted Gerard's hands attending it. He wanted to feel the warm confines of Gerard's mouth against his cock, so gently he turned around so that Gerard was now bottom, and after sliding the back-seat down (or breaking it, Frank couldn't really tell because he didn't know if it was meant to go that way), he ground his hips into Gerard's face. He was grunting uncontrollably with every entrance, and made it his mission to make Gerard come again before he did as he made one final attempt to please Gerard.

But Gerard seemed to have other plans. "Don't fucking suck me," Gerard warned, before tending once more to Frank's throbbing member. Frank listened at first, but his mind became clouded as he felt the immense pleasure Gerard was giving him. How could he just sit there and not attempt to please his partner at all? He was sure he hadn't heard correctly, so he bent forward to finish up.

As soon as Frank's mouth covered Gerard's cock, the older man moaned and stopped sucking on Frank. The young boy continued sucking, not knowing that he was in for punishment for what he'd done. It wasn't going to be a harsh punishment, but punishment enough. It would be hard for Gerard to punish Frank when it pleased him so much.

Frank only began to sense something was up when he lost the warm fuzzy feeling his cock had been giving him for the last few minutes, which was replaced with an itchy and burning sensation. He removed his head from Gerard's cock and looked back to see what was wrong. He gave a small moan from the loss of contact, of which Gerard scolded him for most appropriately.

"Shhh," Gerard demanded, slapping his ass. Frank bit his lower lip and groaned in pleasure, urging Gerard to do it again. Gerard did, this time leaving a red mark on the boy.

"Fuck yes," Frank hissed, eyes closed as he continued rubbing himself on Gerard. With shaky hands, he grabbed Gerard's dick and began pumping him furiously. All that earned him was another slap, this time followed with a bite.

"Oh!" Frank sexily cried, arching his back. His hands abandoned Gerard's cock as they tightly gripped the side of the car seat. "Yes, oh _yes_!"

Before he could realize what his body was doing, Frank began fucking Gerard's mouth in time with his prior pumps against Gerard's dick. With his legs straddling Gerard's face, he tightened his hold. He wasn't even thinking straight anymore. The only thing on his mind was Gerard's pretty little tongue and mouth, and getting his dick far enough in that mouth of Gerard's so he could come. Quickly, Frank thrust into Gerard, the pressure building within him as Gerard spontaneously bit his dick and slapped his ass. Frank finally came, though, when he felt himself enter Gerard wholly, his tip fucking Gerard's throat as Gerard's lips sucked harshly on his balls, nails dug into his ass as he ground on him. That, along with the hard slap that followed, was enough to make him explode.

"Ge-Gee! Oh fuck, _fuck_!" he screeched, shuddering as Gerard's hands made contact with his body once more. He released himself in Gerard's mouth, moaning as he felt Gerard's throat close around his cock while it swallowed his juices.

After Frank's explosion, Gerard remained under Frank, catching his breath as Frank drunkenly tried to crawl off of Gerard. He failed and resorted to shakily clinging on to Gerard as Gerard sat up, back resting against the car seat properly. After Gerard sat up in the seat, Frank tried one last time to do what he'd failed earlier. As Frank tried to slide off Gerard, Gerard caught him by the hand and pulled him close again. Frank moaned as he felt Gerard's tongue poke at his lips, and he allowed Gerard to kiss him.

Frank could tell that Gerard enjoyed himself, and that made him happy beyond imaginable. Slowly but surely, he gained dominance over the situation as his tongue began to explore Gerard's mouth. He tried to pin Gerard's arms back, but he failed and instead Gerard wrapped his arms tightly around Frank.

"I love you Frank Iero," he murmured, nibbling on his lip ring. Frank moaned, rubbing himself against Gerard as he re-initiated and deepened the kiss. Gerard's cock was inflating again, and the stiffness was turning Frank on more. True, he was still coming off his high, but with a dick like Gerard's, it wasn't going to take long for him to get high again.

Gerard groaned in frustration as his hard-on grew. He wanted to make love to Frank. Badly. But he was so drained. He could barely win the tongue battle the two of them had earlier, and he didn't want to half-ass the shit. The only thing he had working for him were his arms.

Maybe if Frank would ride him, it'd be easier. But he and Frank already spoke about that: riding wasn't an option. Frank still wasn't comfortable enough to do that, and he'd never force it on Frank.

He gave Frank a heavy slap on his ass and Frank's eyes blissfully met Gerard's own. He wanted Gerard's dick in him so badly, yet at the same time he could sense how tired Gerard was. He knew what he had to do, though. True, he'd led Gerard believe that he wasn't into riding because he was sure he wouldn't like it. But there was a first time for everything, and this seemed like the best time to try it out. He gave Gerard another loving kiss on the lips as he stared up at him, determined to follow it through.

Gerard looked back at Frank with intense passion, his eyes drooping. Frank's eyes remained love-drunk, and he held himself steady against Gerard's chest to make sure he wouldn't fall as he seemed to level himself carefully on top of Gerard's cock. He hissed as Gerard's manhood began to fill him, and he arched his back as he dug in nails into Gerard's skin. Gerard slapped Frank's ass and sensually pulled him against his dick, inch by inch.

"O-oh," Frank panted, shutting his eyes tightly. He gasped as another inch entered him, opening his eyes to see Gerard's worried face.

"Frankie?" Gerard asked, a little bit concerned. He knew Frank wasn't one for riding; he'd never done it before. Pete had assured him of it in past conversations, and Frank had voiced so himself that he probably would not like it that much. Yet here he was, lowering himself on Gerard's manhood…and Gerard was here helping him.

"Yeah, baby?" Frank asked, raising a brow as he struggled to keep his gaze. He was so fucking horny. He needed Gerard in him _now_. Forcefully, he eased himself down another inch as he bit his lip.

"Do you know—"

"I need you, Gerard," Frank interrupted him, gasping with wide eyes as Gerard gently thrust upward, giving him at least two more inches. "I need you so bad, Gee. It fucking hurts."

Gerard groaned as he felt Frank's tight walls surround his meat. "But—"

"Your cock." Frank lowered himself slowly, grimacing as he forced Gerard's full length in him for the first time in a while. "In me," he continued, moaning as he ground onto Gerard. "_Now_. Oh fuck…"

"Shit, Frankie," Gerard stuttered, gripping Frank closely. Frank let out a small 'Fuck' of his own, before rising up and slamming back down again. Gerard gave a groan of approval and Frank hissed as he felt Gerard slap his ass. He rolled against Gerard's dick, urging more of it to get in him as Gerard's pre-cum acted as the natural lubricant.

It wasn't long before Frank soon began eagerly bouncing against Gerard, sweet cries of pleasure escaping his lips as Gerard entered him. He bent forward as Gerard fucked his ass, holding on to Gerard's shoulders for support while Gerard used a hand of his own to strangle him again. He used his other one cradling Frank's sweet behind, giving him occasional 'reinforcement.'

"Bounce, bitch," Gerard murmured to Frank after a such 'reinforcement,' and Frank grinned hornily at him as he complied. He came down against Gerard hard, his blissful moans filling the air as skin slicked against skin. Gerard's hand never left Frank's hips, ensuring that Frank come down on him with as much force as possible.

Soon enough, Gerard thrust into Frank as well. He had let go of Frank's neck, deciding that the ultimate way to get Frank to vocalize his pleasure was through ramming his entrance. And it worked; Frank gasped in pleasure as his mouth remained ajar. "Oh, _fuck_! Yes, Gerard! _Yessssss_!" he hissed.

Once the quick rhythm was set up, Gerard tightened the hold he had on Frank's neck. Frank immediately fucked himself harder against Gerard's manhood, bouncing wildly on top of him. He became delirious as Gerard sucked and bit on his fingers, slapping and digging his nails into Frank's skin.

"Harder!" Frank groaned, erratically riding Gerard. "Fuck me, Gee!"

"With pleasure," Gerard growled, turning Frank so that his back rested against Gerard's chest. Frank gasped at the rough rotation and Gerard held Frank down by his arms before he finally decided to continue the fuck. Frank began squealing uncontrollably and he pounded himself against Gerard as he felt his boyfriend hit his prostate.

"Sh-shit!" Frank gasped, grinding onto Gerard. He threw his head back, resting his head against the curve of Gerard's shoulders as he felt Gerard's lips attack his craned neck. Never had he felt so in control of a power like this. It was getting him high, and the more Gerard thrust his hips, the more Frank wanted. "More, Gerard. I need more!" he moaned. "_Ughhhhh_!"

Gerard did just that, and Frank's cries became convoluted and inaudible. Gerard shut Frank up as he gripped his neck with both hands and forced his head to the side, facing the outdoors where the funeral was now taking place. It seemed like the funeral had started some time ago.

But surprisingly, that didn't matter. All that mattered was the fact that Gerard was here, and they were fucking for the last time. He was Gerard's and Gerard was his. If he died now, he'd die happy—scars, leakage, and all.

With that thought in mind, it didn't take long for Frank to come. Gerard had ground into him slowly and intimately with his last couple of thrusts, dancing dangerously with his prostate every time. Until one pelvic thrust later, Frank couldn't take it anymore and he violently came on the back-seat of the Mercedes Benz they'd borrowed, his muscles clenching against Gerard's thick cock.

"_GERARD_!" he cried, arching his back as the orgasm took over. His head deliriously whipped to the side as he rubbed his ass over Gerard's cock, which was still pounding into him. And as time wore on, Gerard's thrusts became uneven and the grip on Frank's neck tightened even more.

Frank was struggling to breathe eventually, and he struggled to pull at Gerard's hand. Gerard thrust into Frank, grabbing his hands and placing them behind his back again. When Frank realized his attempt to get Gerard to release him didn't work, he slammed himself on top of Gerard fiercely. Gerard growled, biting down on Frank's neck and shoulder as he sadistically came inside Frank, making both he and his boyfriend cry out.

"_FUCK_, Frank!" he cried, eyes shut as he roughly fondled Frank's body. Frank tried to catch his breath, holding Gerard's neck as he breathed his scent.

"Oh, Frank…" Gerard murmured again, kissing Frank sweetly on the lips. Frank returned the favor as he tasted himself and much more on Gerard's tongue.

Frank twitched as he finally slid off Gerard's cock, wetting Gerard from his leakage. He turned around so he could properly face Gerard, sucking feverishly on his neck before gently cradling his face. Gerard lifted Frank's head from his neck and demanded that Frank kiss him. Frank complied, grinning eagerly as Gerard held him tightly and possessively, their tongues dancing with each other for the final time.

Gerard sighed as they pulled away, looking into each other's eyes. When he couldn't take it anymore, Gerard resorted to hugging Frank tightly, something he'd done a lot this time around. And as he felt Frank's heart thud against his chest, he couldn't help but bite back a tear.

He was going to fucking miss this, indeed.

Quietly, Frank broke the silence as he began to lightly hum, tracing a pattern on Gerard's chest. If he could remember where it had come from, it'd been the Billy Joel song he'd shut off on the radio hours before. He wasn't sure why it'd come to his head just then: he wasn't one to sing or hum for that matter, but it felt like it was the right moment to do so. Plus, the words seemed to speak exactly what was on his mind at the moment.

At first, he was worried about what Gerard would think of him, but after he took a deep breath, he decided it was the best way to get his message across. Shakily, Frank finally sang against Gerard's skin, happy to be in his arms but broken at the mere fact that it was over. With his cracked voice, Frank murmured, "_…and the greatest miracle of all is how I need you, and how you needed me too."_

Gerard sadly smiled as he realized what song Frank was attempting to sing and he hummed along until he got to the next verse, which he recited for Frank, rubbing his back as he kissed his ear. _"Maybe this won't last very long. But you feel so right, and I could be wrong. Maybe I've been hoping too hard. I've gone this far and it's more than I'd hoped for."_

"_Who knows how much further we'll go on?_" Frank asked, looking into Gerard's eyes as he tried his best to bring the song to life. But it was hard to keep his voice from cracking. Here he was, telling Gerard his 'goodbye.' "_Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone."_

_"I'll take my chances,"_ Gerard sang in response, innocently kissing Frank's cheek. _"I forgot how nice romance is. I haven't been there for the longest time."_

_ "I had second thoughts at the start,_" Frank not only sang, but admitted. _"I said to myself, 'hold on to your heart.' Now I know the 'woman' that you are._" He giggled as he called Gerard a woman, but it was something they'd established back at Dan's Motel concerning his ear piercings and bloody sheets. Gerard simply smirked at his boyfriend as he poked him, causing Frank to share one of his infamous grins. "You're wonderful so far…" Frank continued before his grin wore off, his face soon covered with inevitable tears. But quietly, he finished the stanza as he looked into Gerard's eyes. "_…and it's more than I'd hoped for." _

Gerard kissed and nuzzled Frank's nose before he continued with the final verse of the song, meaning every fucking word. "_I don't care what consequence it brings,_" he promised Frank, wiping away Frank's tears as his gaze fell on the scene a few yards away from their car. The crowd of people was growing, and if Frank looked out carefully enough, he thought he could make out his mother. As if both Gerard and the song read his mind, Gerard continued, gently pulling Frank's face toward his own. _"I have been a fool for lesser things_," he assured Frank, rubbing his cheek against Frank's own. _"I want you so bad. I think you ought to know that I intend to hold you for the longest time." _

* * *

The air around them grew still as time passed. Brief glances turned into gazes, and seconds turned into minutes before Gerard let out a huge sigh and decided to prepare himself for his departure. But as Gerard shuffled, something broke in Frank's heart and he begged for Gerard to stay, despite all of his mental prep-talks.

"D-don't leave me Gerard," Frank choked, wiping away his tears as he buried himself in Gerard's grasp. The last bit of Frank's sanity left when Gerard's strong arms secured Frank, giving him a false sense of protection: because he couldn't protect him anymore. He was about to hand him off, never to see or hear from him again.

"I love you Frank," Gerard simply murmured, rubbing Frank's back. Frank openly sobbed, pleading for Gerard not to go. He couldn't stand it. The moment was really here, and soon all the time he spent with Gerard would be nothing but memories. But as Gerard tried to calm Frank, Frank angrily hit his chest, his small fists making contact with Gerard's skin.

"You don't love me!" Frank accused, sliding off of Gerard and getting out of his grasp. Gerard tried to hold Frank and calm him down but Frank pushed him away, blinded by rage and fury. "You don't love me, or you would stay! You'd fucking _stay_!"

Didn't Frank understand? It was precisely because he loved him that he was leaving, giving him a chance to live life as a normal kid. No more hiding in wacky run down motels, no more secret lifestyles. No, Frank deserved to go out in the open and enjoy himself, deserved to have someone who could protect him and love him, deserved to be _free_.

"You'll understand one day," Gerard murmured, clearing his head. Though he was sure Frank had said that simply because he was out of his right state of mind, it had still hurt to hear Frank say it. This wasn't how he wanted to remember Frank; he preferred to remember him how he was three minutes ago, secure and serene in his arms as they sang, or tried to sing, to each other. But Frank seemed to finally crack, and it seemed like there was no way he'd be coming back.

Frank glared at Gerard as he saw him reach for his underwear and pants, his chest heaving in an old familiar pattern that he knew all too well. He took a few deep breaths as he tried to calm himself: he didn't want to have an attack now, of all times.

"I'll never understand, Gerard," Frank finally told him, grudgingly putting on his clothes as well. Gerard was really leaving him. The fucker was putting on his clothes again.

"Me keeping you to myself is pure selfishness," Gerard tried to explain once more, pulling his shirt over his head. Frank put on his pants as he rested against the door in annoyance. He didn't want to hear this shit. He wanted Gerard to start the car and have the two of them run off with each other. Gerard belonged to him, why wouldn't he just do it already? Didn't he feel like he belonged with Frank? Or was this whole thing one-sided?

"Bullshit, Gerard," he snapped. Gerard ignored him, running his hands through his hair in an attempt to cover up what he'd just done. There really wasn't any point to that, since Frank had worked really hard on those hickies covering his neck. Plus, the two reeked of each other, so Frank wished him the best of luck covering that up.

"So when I go," Gerard started, fumbling around with his arms. He had to find a nice way of putting it, since Frank was already off-edge. He took a deep breath as he tried to tell Frank a formal 'goodbye' as compared to their last intimate moment. "Just…have fun, okay?" he finally pleaded with an angry Frank. "K-know that I love you: I always will. But I love you enough to let you go enjoy life while I stay…behind. Your memory will give me a reason to keep living in that shit hole. And my memory should give you a reason to give love another chance with someone else…someone more deserving."

"Fuck you," Frank spat angrily, hitting the chair as tears streamed from his eyes.

Gerard quickly put on his shoes, refusing to look at how much he'd broken Frank. He'd always known giving himself up would be hard, but looking at Frank while he did it would prove to be even harder. He guess he assumed Frank would be able to cover up his true feelings like he used to, but this was something he wasn't prepared for.

With a heavy heart, Gerard opened the door as he left for the outside, Mother Nature slapping him with a cold gust of air. Frank shuddered as well, but didn't bother to put on a shirt to cover himself up. Inside the car was warm, compared to the outside. It was something he would have to get used to. Life with Gerard was warm. Life without him would be very much like the air outside…

"G-goodbye Fr-Frankie," Gerard stuttered, wiping his eyes as he stepped out and looked at the ground. He couldn't bear to see Frank's face. Hearing his gut-wrenching sobs were enough.

Frank started wheezing, soon losing the fight he had with his lungs as he crawled over to the edge of the seat. "N-no. You can't! Y-you can't d-d-do this to me, Gee!"

Gerard found himself crying as well, despite the fact that he refused to look at Frank directly. Frank sounded like he was dying, and it was killing him. But he knew he was doing the right thing by leaving. Every second he stayed with Frank would kill him longer in the end. The sooner he left Frank, the sooner Frank could begin the healing process.

"Just…just don't think about me too much," Gerard said, offering his final piece of advice as he turned his back on Frank, shutting the door in his face.

Frank stared at it in amazement, still sobbing as he saw the image of Gerard become smaller with each second. This was it: the end. Gerard had walked out on him, and they were actually calling it quits. The police were going to take him, and he was going to go back to his mother. Without a doubt, that was his mother out there at the funeral service, which meant that was Mikey's body in there.

For a moment, Frank felt bad for withholding Gerard from his brother. That was what he was ultimately doing by begging him to stay, wasn't he? And he couldn't do that. Blood was thicker than water. He couldn't hate Gerard for it, as much as he wanted to. Nor could he hate Mikey for dying; he'd brought it upon the poor fellow.

Frank wiped his eyes as he angrily scanned the crowd again. This wasn't fucking fair. Gerard was now gone from him, and he was left stranded in the parking lot. The one person he felt so strongly about was taken away from him, thanks to Pete.

Frank banged his head against the window as more seconds passed. What the fuck was he doing, staying in the fucking car and feeling sorry for himself? He was Gerard's and Gerard was his. He'd be damned if he was going to let Gerard fucking go like that. Plus, it'd be an interesting story for the papers: kidnapped victim kidnaps his kidnapper.

As Frank crawled to the front of the car to look for his hoodie, something caught his eye and his head snapped in the direction of the funeral service to see someone dressed in clothing that was far too familiar for his liking. When he saw the figure, his stomach dropped and he scrambled to open the door as Gerard's image shrunk farther away into the distance.

"Gerard, no!" Frank shouted, throwing the front door open as he struggled to crawl out. He didn't care about the fact that it was now November, and he had no shirt on. And after his grand entrance to the outside, all faces from the service were looking back at the two of them. None remained on him for long, except for the gaze of his mother. And as a smile lit her face, he gagged.

He had no time to lose.

Frank stood up, running toward Gerard as Gerard remained frozen. He didn't know what to make of it. He hadn't planned for this moment to be so complicated, but things were coming off unhinged left and right. "Gee, don't!" Frank begged again, and Gerard sighed to himself as tears threatened to fall. Why was Frankie so intent on making this more difficult than necessary?

"Frankie, don't make this harder than it already is," Gerard begged of him, wiping his eyes as Frank approached. But Frank didn't seem to listen, pulling Gerard back toward the car.

"Won't you at least let me fucking see Mikey?" Gerard demanded finally, trying to fight back. There was no need for him to put much effort into his resistance, since he was naturally bigger and stronger than Frank was. But it killed him to see Frank like this. Had he known Frank would behave this way, he would have never suggested they do this. But he had given his word to Mrs. Iero, and he had his brother to say his final goodbyes to.

"I think something fishy's going on," Frank pleaded with him, and Gerard rolled his eyes. This was just a pathetic attempt of Frank's to prolong Gerard from leaving, and he looked past it as he turned his back on Frank and continued advancing toward the coffin.

"Gerard, come back! Please," Frank urged, and he could hear the funeral service come to a complete halt. There was no more talking, no more praising of the dead, no hymns…everyone turned around, including the man in the purple hoodie. And as the face behind the hoodie lit up and smiled at Frank while Gerard walked to his doom, Frank died inside.

The fucker lied. He was here.


	60. Drowning

**Drowning**

"Gerard, come back! Please!"

Frank still hadn't given up with the yelling and tugging and, to be quite honest, it was pissing Gerard off. There was no reason for Frank to be acting up at a time like this. The two of them had gone over this exact moment for crying out loud! Causing a scene was not part of the plan, last Gerard checked. If he'd known that Frank would crumble this much, he would have come alone. Or, more realistically, he would not have come at all.

But it was too late for that.

Just as Gerard was about to remind Frank of the deal they made with each other earlier, he saw a look of terror in Frank's eyes and his annoyance dissipated. Something or someone up there was scaring Frank shitless. Slowly, Gerard turned around to see if he recognized anything or anyone that would give Frank trouble. Sure the service had now been interrupted and he was in plain sight, but as far as he could tell, he couldn't find any actual source of terror. Everyone and more than he expected was at the funeral service: Mrs. Iero and Pete, for starters. He couldn't see his parents, but he was sure they were behind the huge crowd forming. While they might not have cared to call him and alert him about the funeral, they loved their son Mikey too much to pass up on such an opportunity.

Regardless of the fact that Gerard was nervous of meeting his parents, it was the look on Frank's face that worried him; he'd only seen that look back when Frank saw the spider hanging above his suitcase and when he jumped from the Motel window.

Maybe Frank was just nervous of the idea of seeing a corpse. Try as Gerard might've, Frank still felt somewhat responsible for Mikey's death. Gerard thought that problem had been taken care of, but apparently it was not so. Sighing, he opened his mouth to give Frank the final run-down on feeling guiltless, because they were both helpless in that situation. But as he opened his mouth to scold Frank, Frank tightly clutched Gerard's arm as if his life depended on it. It wasn't long before Frank engulfed him in an air-tight hug. The reaction surprised Gerard. Frank's body was shaking tremendously.

And just like that, Gerard couldn't bring himself to scold Frank, let alone leave him. True, it was the same reasoning that resulted with Gerard 'kidnapping' Frank from his childhood home; you would think that Gerard had learned from past mistakes. But he wasn't thinking in terms of reason anymore. That was secondary when it came to Frank's happiness; anything and everything came secondary after Frank wrapped his arms around you. And it sounded almost taboo to think it, but if Frank was going to fall apart like this and end up worse than he was when Gerard met him, then Gerard was convinced that he was just going to have to say goodbye to his brother another day, in another way. It hurt to come to that conclusion, and Pete's taunting question from months ago echoed through his mind.

_Mikey? Or 'Frankie'?_

Well, the answer was now obvious. Maybe back then he had fought the urge, but Pete had known. Hell, Gerard knew that the smirk currently residing on Pete's face probably reflected that pathetic fact. If there was anything Gerard hated, it was being figured out when he himself hadn't figured it out yet. His parents had done the same to him: called him a shitty brother to Mikes, and they were right; look where Mikey was today.

The more Gerard thought about it, the more difficult it became to come to terms with the current situation. As he recalled every step he'd taken farther away from the Benz, his heart ached. To start things off, Gerard couldn't believe he'd just shut the door in front of his boyfriend's face, leaving Frank livid, confused, hurt, and scared. The image replayed numerous times in his head, and not only did his heart ache with every step, but his hatred for himself grew. And unfortunately, in a pathetic attempt to continue with what he felt was the right thing to do, he had turned his self-hatred into annoyance and directed it at Frank.

Yet that was completely unfair because he would have done the same had he been in Frank's shoes. Plus, it wasn't something he could easily convince Frank that he wanted to do either. But it had to be done before things got seriously out of control.

Gerard couldn't help but chuckle aloud at his last thought. Things were 'seriously out of control' the moment Mikey died.

He couldn't do anything worse than what he already got himself into. Miss the chance to say his goodbyes to Mikey? He'd find some other way; he was always the odd one. Put on the FBI's Most Wanted List? He was already being hunted now. Become hated by the general population? Hell, even before he kidnapped Frank things had been like that. And all these things that Gerard was going against could not beat the number one thing that he'd be doing this for; more time with Frank, whether it would be in seconds or years, was worth everything. Frank was all he had left.

With the decision in mind, he attended to Frank as Frank clutched him tightly. The young man shivered as Gerard responded back, hugging his bare chest. The act alone seemed to reinforce Gerard's ultimate decision of giving them another go, and as Frank snuggled into his grasp Gerard was positive that he would find a way to get past all the security and stares of the funeral goers and back into the confines of their car. Mikey would have to wait.

While he might've been feeling better about his decision to stay with Frank, Gerard's contentedness faltered once his eyes inspected Frank's body. Immediately, he rescinded from his earlier decision. He couldn't stay with Frank, no matter how much they both wanted it. In the end, he was hurting him; for the first time, the scars he'd given Frank were as plain as day, and it scared Gerard to see it from the outside. They hadn't looked that bad indoors, but when the sun was beaming down on them, it was a sight to see.

Adorned on Frank's small frame were numerous cuts, gashes, and bruises. Some of them, Gerard noted, he hadn't seen before. But they were there and fairly fresh, so that meant he put them there. A wave of disappointment washed over Gerard as he realized just how much he'd abused Frank. Sure, it might have been something that got carried away in the moment, but the end result was horrifying. He didn't care what Frank would tell him in order to make him feel better, and he couldn't believe he'd let Frank talk him into such ideas in the first place. Damn Dan's dim lights and dirty windows, and damn the fact that they arrived at Bob's place when they did, in the middle of the night. Damn the fact that they'd left early, and damn Frank for leaving his shirt off and coming outside. All that time, Gerard thought the worse he'd done were maybe a few bruises and cuts. But he'd mistaken the gashes as scabs: depth perception failure on his part.

No, he couldn't stay. Frank wasn't good for him, no matter how much he loved him, wanted him, or craved him. He was harming Frank; show Frank's body to the rest of the world and they would be quick to agree. If he stayed, Frank would only encourage his actions, and that would end up with him badly hurt and abused. Frank might have been blind to the fact, but Gerard was painfully aware of it, with the sunlight deciding to focus all of its energy on Frank's broken skin.

Guiltily Gerard continued the hug with Frank, being careful not to touch any of the marks on Frank's body. But Frank snuggled once more into Gerard's grasp, making Gerard wince. Didn't that hurt?

Not conscious of the most recent damage he'd caused his boyfriend, he looked at Frank's waist line and lower hip to see that Frank was even still bleeding from the small nail incisions into his bruises. Not a smart move on Gerard's part: he looked like he beat up and raped Frank, and there was no doubt that they (basically everyone else) would take this and win their case, no matter what Frank said. Who needs Frank's words when they've got the proof right in front of their eyes?

"Baby, we can go back if it bothers you," Gerard murmured with a heavy heart. He felt like a shitty brother and boyfriend at the same time, and second-doubted his last-minute choice once more. Gerard was torn between giving Frank up, or running off again, despite the fact that they had an audience and witnesses. But Frank's sniffling reminded him of why he'd wanted to skip out on Mikey's funeral. He was just going to have to work on his self-control when it came to him. Giving Frank up was much harder than Gerard changing a bad habit.

With his strong arms, he started rocking Frank as he uttered, "I mean it, Frankie."

"Are you serious?" Frank asked, giving a small hiccup. Sighing, Gerard nodded, because he didn't _know _if he meant it. Mikey was already dead; there was nothing he could do for him. But Frank was still alive, so it made the most sense to make him happy while he could. Of course, this was Gerard trying to simply rationalize his decision, but his decision was mostly guided through the direction of his stupid heart and feelings. From past experience, Gerard learned that decisions decided by such factors often brought trouble, but he figured things really couldn't get worse than they were now. He and Frank would try to make a break for it and leave before they got caught. And if they got caught, he'd go to jail. It's not like he wasn't aware of the fact. And in regards to his 'problem,' he'd learn to have better control is all.

"Yeah," Gerard finally murmured, kissing Frank's forehead. With a flicker of hope in Frank's eyes, he looked up at Gerard and smiled. But Gerard couldn't bring himself to smile when he was cruelly reminded that Frank's face hadn't been an exception from the bruises. Frank's blue and purple 'badges of honor,' as Frank would probably prefer, extended up from his neck and to his cheeks. But the last Gerard checked, he hadn't hit Frank that much during their last intimate moment, which meant the bruises were from days ago. Frank's lip was still kind of busted, although he knew it probably looked worse before.

Huh. Could Gerard really even attempt to imagine how Frank _really _looked all those times, when the wounds were fresh? He preferred not to.

Frank looked deep into Gerard's eyes with tears filling his own, tears that he was trying hard to hold in as he saw the funeral setup in the background. He avoided making eye-contact with Pete, instead opting to look at the wooden casket the guests had surrounded. By the time his eyes landed back on Gerard, his smile faltered. Gerard seemed unhappy about something, and Frank realized how foolish he was for even entertaining the idea that they could leave. As if Pete and his mother would see the two of them and let them exit together.

"But where are we gonna go?" Frank finally asked, wiping his eyes.

Sadly, Gerard simply shrugged. There wasn't a place to go, and him mentioning the thought aloud was even a mistake. Hopefully, Frank would realize the predicament they were in and would choose the most logical thing to do. Fuck their feelings for each other and what their hearts were saying. They landed them in this mess, after all.

"Fuck it, who cares?" Frank said, answering his own question. "Come back," he uttered almost instantly, despite the fact that he himself knew the high chances they had of getting caught. He didn't care if they wouldn't make it. Anything had to be better than simply handing yourself in, no matter how crazy the other options seemed.

Gerard nodded, averting his gaze on the funeral goers that had acknowledged his presence yet didn't know what to do. Gerard took a last glance at his brother's resting place and sighed at the sight. Mrs. Iero was there. He could see her designer Chanel sunglasses sitting perfectly atop of her nose as her leather-gloved fingers drummed against her crossed arms. She spotted him, alright. There was not going to be an easy way out of this at all.

"Please, Gerard," Frank continued, lightly tugging him. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

"Frank, that's—"

"You told me you were serious," Frank said, lowering his voice as he glared at him. His threatening look faltered when he saw the commotion a few yards above them, and he began pleading with Gerard. "You said you meant it, Gee!" Nervously, his eyes gazed at the scene from behind and his heartbeat rose as he began panicking. Something was going on up there, and he didn't want to stay and figure out what. Now was not the time to flare up. He had to take this maybe from another approach, get Gerard to see things his way, maybe.

"W-we should leave."

"Frank, how the fuck are we gonna leave?" Gerard asked, despite the fact that he had a suggestion a minute ago. He looked back to see that the attention from the crowd was mostly on them, and he shook his head. "I wasn't thinking when I said that, and you know it'll be hopeless to leave now. They know we're here."

"Who fucking cares?" Frank hissed. "The Benz is _right there_. We'll just hop in, lock the doors, and drive off."

"And what're we gonna do if they close the gate, smart ass?" Gerard snapped.

"We'll find a way, you jerk," Frank growled. "I don't want to fucking hand you over, Gerard. That's not fucking 'dandy' with me."

Gerard sighed, because he knew he felt the same way. "But…you said you'd be okay with this."

"I was lying, dumb ass," Frank retorted. "Duh."

Frank crossed his arms sternly and for a second Gerard could see the striking resemblance between the young boy and his mother. And once again, he couldn't help but feel out of place. Slowly, he let the bullshit things the media had stated about him sink into his head, and he backed away, shaking his head as he took a step toward the mob of people waiting.

"Frankie, I…I don't belong—"

"Don't bullshit, Gerard," Frank demanded, completely disgusted. "I belong to you, you belong with me."

"You just…look so much like your mother," Gerard murmured quietly, and Frank let his gaze wander to see that he and his mother were indeed standing in the same stance, both directed at the same man but for different reasons.

"Gee, don't," Frank said, shaking his head and coming out of that particular stance. "Don't do this to me," he continued, running his hands through his hair.

It was now becoming obvious that the crowd had noticed the odd couple by now and were all peering down the hill to see what was being said. There was a light buzz going on, and soon there was a movement of bodies, people scattering to and fro. Frank wasted no time as Gerard still tried to understand what was going on though, as he forcefully dragged Gerard back to the black Benz that was parked near the entrance. He couldn't waste any time!

"I…I don't understand, Frankie," Gerard told him, shaking his head as he tried to stop the two of them from leaving. It worked, seeing that Gerard was the bigger of the two, and stronger. Once he got Frank to stay, he continued with his questions. "What did you see that made you change your mind like this? We…we went over this many times, and I thought we were gonna stick to our roles."

"Didn't you hear me from before?" Frank said, averting Gerard's gaze. The funeral goers were disappearing. It was in too much an orderly fashion for Frank to not think something was up. And he knew his mother must have told them something. She might not have told them who they were, but she told them _something_. And the fuck-tard was here, which gave him even more reason to skedaddle.

Returning his attention to Gerard, he desperately continued. Time was precious. "I told you I lied. I'm a fucking liar."

"Why would you lie?" Gerard asked, and Frank rolled his eyes. This was not the time or place to be having this conversation. Something like this would be lovely to have if they were already in the car and driving off, though.

Frank tried yanking Gerard again, but Gerard held firm. "Answer me," he demanded, and Frank gave up as he threw his hands in the air. They weren't going to leave like he wanted to: they'd already caught the attention of his mother, Pete, and the funeral goers. So to state that Frank was simply disappointed was an understatement.

"Fuck, Gerard!" Frank snapped. "Why? Are you seriously asking me why? I'll tell you why: I wanted to make you happy." Gerard opened his mouth to try and blame the situation on Frank, but Frank shut him down angrily. "And don't you try and act as if your ass wasn't doing the same thing, Gee. We lie to each other to make the other person happy."

"Why would you do that for something like this, though?" Gerard asked, still trying to turn the blame on Frank.

"Because you really wanted to say goodbye to Mikey, or at least I thought you did," Frank replied. "And so I agreed. But of course I don't want you to fucking go!" It felt good for Frank to get it out of his system, and he huffed as Gerard stared at him, almost calm. It wasn't the expression he was hoping for, but it was better than nothing. Frank felt the need to defend himself after sounding so selfish and he continued with, "And now that I know you were lying about Mikey, I can say what I wanted to say. We could have gone, Gerard. Now we're stuck here."

Calmly, Gerard sighed and shook his head at Frank's statement. "I wasn't lying about Mikey when I said I wanted to come here."

Frank felt like shit just then. "S-so why're you giving me the option t-t-to—"

"Because I'm lying too, Sherlock," Gerard muttered, eyes downcast. He couldn't afford to let everyone hear. It was an insult, at least it would seem as one to a passerby. But he meant it. "I…if me leaving was going to affect you this much, I wouldn't have done it baby."

Gerard's words struck Frank and Frank reached for Gerard's hands as the realization sunk in; although, it wasn't much of a realization because he figured that fact out a long time ago. But Gerard was finally admitting it, and for some reason it made the fact special; Gerard was willing to pass on his only opportunity to say goodbye to his brother in order for Frank to be happy, because he loved him and couldn't bear to see him in pain. And that was the same reason why Frank had agreed to this whole ordeal in the first place; because he, too, lied and said he was fine with the idea of the funeral because he loved Gerard and hoped the funeral would bring him closure of some sort. Frank sighed, his heart completely heavy.

Gerard was right. He couldn't decide that they leave. That was completely selfish. While couples may lie to each other to keep the other one happy, they also practice an abundant amount of selflessness, and that was what this situation called for. Sadly, Frank shook his head, resting it against Gerard's shoulder. Upon opening his mouth to tell Gerard that they should head on up, he was interrupted.

"Gee, I'm sor—"

"Frankie!" a voice called from the distance, and Gerard could feel the nails of Frank's fingers dig into his skin. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around Frank and stared back to see that there was only one person atop the hill. Everyone else had run away, Gerard figured. Maybe they had seen him. Someone just called Frank's name after all. Not only that, but they had called him 'Frankie.' Maybe it was his mother? Then again, Frank's mother had a higher voice than that. And since the person atop the hill was the only person in sight, Gerard was going to go with the safe bet that the voice belonged to that person. If he squinted his eyes enough, he could make out that the person was wearing something purple. Yeah, it definitely wasn't Irene. She was too classy for something a benign as a purple shirt…or was that a hoodie?

The person started slowly making their way down the grassy hill, stomping on the dead, dried leaves on the ground. Frank only dug his nails deeper, nearly making Gerard cry out in shock. Frank realized his actions and removed his fingers to see his claw marks, and an old habit of Frank's came back and he angrily hit his head before tugging at his hair.

"Frank, don't do that," Gerard scolded, holding Frank's hands down at his sides. Behind him, Gerard could hear someone chuckle. But he ignored the chuckle, because he already had a good idea of the reason why Frank was freaking out. Facing Pete right now was not at the top of his list. Getting Frank to stop the self inflicted pain was.

"So, he still does that? I was kinda hoping you'd be able to fix it," Pete muttered, peering his head over Gerard's shoulder. Gerard refused to turn around, but with the way Frank was positioned in Gerard's arms, he was forced to see Pete. Frank glared at him, despite the tears on his face and Pete gave him his attention as well. He raised his hand and wiggled his fingers in a flirtatious matter, winking at Frank. "Oh, hey baby."

"Don't call me that," Frank demanded in a harsh tone, not one that Gerard was used to hearing. Gerard's hold on Frank's hands tightened when he felt Frank tense up. "Asshole," Frank spat, and Pete shook his head.

"Actually, if you want to play this game," Pete said, chuckling, "I'm the dick. You're the asshole, babe."

"Fuck you," Frank snarled, wanting to deck Pete. But Gerard's hold on him made the little flare-up seem non-existent.

"In due time," Pete assured him, smirking as he looked him over. Someone seemed to be quite the masochist, and he couldn't help but be proud at the Frank he helped create. Those marks on him were fairly new, and the old ones on Frank's body that had been swollen showed proof that they had been re-opened recently. In fact, little Frankie was still red and flushed. Though Pete hadn't been around Frank half as much as he used to, he could still read Frank's body like a book.

But soon his gaze fell upon the man who Frank found solace with and the smirk on his face disappeared. Gerard. What the fuck did that boy have that he didn't? What the hell was wrong with Frank? He'd given and wasted his time, investing in Frank to be the great sex toy that he was and this was how he repaid him? Then again, Frank had always been easily impressionable. Gerard was the one to blame for everything, and he hated him. In fact, if he could, he'd make Frank scream his name as he fucked him, leaving Gerard in no position but to watch. That would show him: Frank wasn't his, no matter what they went through these four months.

"Pete, could you not do this now?" someone asked, and Pete had to blink in surprise. He hadn't heard Gerard's voice in so long, and it threw him off when Gerard spoke. He was used to Gerard sounding lost, desperate, and upset. But now, with Frank in his arms, he sounded so sure and confident. He knew what he was doing, who he was protecting, and he no longer seemed to give a fuck that Pete was behind him. Four months ago, he would have had Gerard eating out of the palm of his hand.

He hated this. As the realization dawned upon him that his sources of pleasure were taking a stand, Pete's eyes turned to slits, and he made a grab for Frank.

"Give it back to me," Pete demanded, yanking on Frank's hand. Frank recoiled from his touch and buried his head onto Gerard's chest, wincing. He didn't need Pete tugging on him like that, it hurt his arm.

It was funny how when Gerard touched Frank, he felt like he was floating. Yet when Pete touched those same places, all he could feel was pain.

"Get the fuck _off _of him," Gerard snapped, becoming defensive. It was one thing when they were insulting each other, but was Pete fucking crazy enough to touch and rough-handle Frank like that right in front of him? Did he not know that Gerard would do whatever the hell he thought was fit, since he was already going to jail? Was Pete fucking high?

"Make me then," Pete teased, yanking on Frank's arm again. Frank gasped before he pulled back, telling him to essentially 'fuck off.' Gerard helped, slowly backing the two of them up as he shoved Pete away.

Pete could see the struggle in Gerard's eyes to stay firm and in control of his emotions, but he knew how Gerard was feeling. Hell, he was feeling the same way, in some respect. They both wanted to do more than just shove each other, that was for sure. And as Gerard tried to control his anger, Pete taunted him openly.

"Hit me, Gee," he said, throwing Frank into the situation as well as he used Gerard's nick name. He grinned as he saw the look on Frank's face harden, and he smugly continued, "I know you're into that."

Anger boiled in Frank as he heard Pete openly referring to the times he and Gerard fucked, and it disturbed him to imagine that Pete was ever anywhere near Gerard at a point in his life. But what made matters worse was that he could imagine the two of them together now. Everything made sense that way. Gerard's dominance probably had to do with the fact that while with Frank, it was the only time he ever felt in control of anything in his life: prior to Frank he must've been forced to be predominantly submissive—anyone who slept with Pete had to be. And Frank's condition was simply due to the fact that he was raised on Pete's ways.

It became very obvious right then that everything and anything Frank ever wanted was something that Pete had already owned and broken. That included his life, and he hated him for that.

Gerard remained silent, guilt eating away at him as his eyes lowered to Frank's chest again. Pete's eyes found themselves scanning Frank again as well, and when Frank detected the second pair of eyes he turned away and let his back face Pete. He shook his head and Gerard urged him not to listen to Pete. But as soon as Frank turned around, Pete decided he's had enough foreplay.

As Gerard and Frank remained in each other's grasp, seemingly separated from the world, Pete finally gave the single the authorities had been waiting for and whistled. Soon enough, all the faces of the 'funeral goers' appeared, surrounding the giant hill. As they slowly proceeded with their march, Frank cursed as he realized the trap he fell for. He could see the policemen he'd mistaken as supposed 'friends' of Mikey's, and he was sure Gerard could see the same march of blue uniforms behind him forming, with Pete as their 'leader.'

Fuck it, they were absolutely goners. Pete knew them too well for them to escape. He'd known that his presence would be distracting, so why not use it? And that's exactly what happened: they had thought that the biggest issue was Pete, not knowing they had a whole police force to worry about. It was too late for that, though, because now they were surrounded. It killed knowing that their getaway car was only at the bottom of the hill but they would never be able to make it past the officers and their guns. Hell, as they wonderfully demonstrated for the past ten minutes, they couldn't even make it past Pete.

"Now, you have two motherfucking options Arthur," Pete said, sneering as the army behind him grew. And not soon long after, Mrs. Iero stepped up behind him, rubbing his shoulder. It was an unspoken message, but Pete knew what she was saying: the sooner you bring Frank back, the sooner you two can be together. Things couldn't be any more perfect!

Bile rose up in Frank's throat as he saw his mother rub Pete's shoulder. Ew, he wouldn't be surprised if he'd fucked her too. Maybe that was the way he got everything to unfold nicely for him. But after a couple of seconds, Frank forced the bile down as he shook his head, clearing his mind. These were most probably going to be his last moments with Gerard. Did he really want to replace his thoughts with images of Pete and his mother fucking?

As if Pete could read his thoughts, he smirked at Frank. And just like that, Frank's breathing became irregular. _Oh god, not now…_

"Either give him back," Pete warned Gerard, stepping up to Frank again. Easily, he began caressing the young man's face and Gerard stood by, helpless against it. He couldn't dare fight back, not with the whole police force on Pete's side. And it seemed like Frank was thinking along the same lines, Gerard noted. But as he saw the look on Pete's face become more excited, he became worried. Carefully, Gerard pulled Frank up against him and saw the way Frank's eyes were scrunched up, the way his eyebrows were knitted together, the way his nose wrinkled, and the way he seemed to painfully bite his lip. Not only was Frank silently going through some sort of battle within, but it was hurting him: Gerard could tell with the way Frank clung on to him.

Pete smiled, licking his lips as Frank struggled to stay afloat—from what, Gerard didn't know. But what he did know was that he'd never seen Frank like this before. His own heart started beating heavily against his chest, and he became dreadfully worried as Frank finally started wheezing. What pissed him off, though, was how nonchalant Pete was about it. If anything, he seemed turned on.

"Either you give it back to me, or get it taken away from you," Pete finished, looking directly at Frank. He removed the hair from Frank's eyes and Frank's hold on Gerard tightened. Frank would have done something to Pete, but between the lack of energy and the threat of guns, he thought better of it and simply cried as he silently (or not to silently now) tried to regain control over this episode of bronchitis. He couldn't pass out now. The sooner he passed out, the sooner he'd be taken away.

Pete smirked as his gaze traveled up to see Gerard's worried face as he held the boy, tears welling up in his eyes. Pete merely scoffed, though, and he smugly asked, "Never seen it before?"

Dejectedly, Gerard shook his head. No, he'd never witnessed something like this before. The only time that he could say he came close was during their intercourse, but admitting that aloud wouldn't work out well for him. Plus, it obviously wasn't the same thing.

"So I guess he doesn't trust you like you thought he did," Pete said, playing on Gerard's insecurity. "I bet you don't even know how to take care of him, either."

"Shut…up," Frank finally snapped between breaths. How the hell could Pete say that, and why on Earth would Gerard believe it? Gerard was the only one who could take care of him. And the only reason he didn't bring up the 'attacks' was because he never had one while he was with Gerard. But as Frank attempted to soothe Gerard, Pete interrupted him.

"Say goodbye to Gerard now," Pete taunted, and Gerard was confused. Pete had said that, but the sea of officers from both sides remained still and unmoving. The only sound were Frank's short gasps, and as Gerard gently rocked Frank back and forth (he didn't know what else he could do), he watched apprehensively for any sudden movement. He wasn't going to give up Frank without a fight. But as he stood there, defenses on and waiting, Pete laughed at Gerard. Confused, Gerard looked at Pete for an explanation; he looked at Mrs. Iero for a source of confirmation that the officers or her were coming for Frank, but there was none. She, too, had a smile glued on her face. Gerard's protective pose fell as he tried to understand why the hell Pete would tell Frank to 'say goodbye,' yet not do anything? And after Pete had a good laugh, he rubbed Frank's cheek and finally let Gerard in on the joke.

"He's going to pass out soon enough," he cockily explained, shrugging as Frank gave another wheeze in protest. He refused to pass out! But it was getting so hard to breathe…

"Frankie?" Gerard asked, purely concerned. Frank's breathing would have gotten under control had it just been the two of them, but as he opened his eyes to stare into Gerard's all he could see was the mass of police officers behind him, and he froze again. His gasps quickened and he held on tightly as Gerard shook him. Gerard knew that was anything but soothing, but he didn't know what to do. He was scared shitless.

"Baby, what do you want?" he pathetically asked Frank, but Frank was non-responsive. Like the annoying prick Pete was, he intervened.

"I think this is the part when we come in, take him from you, and you go to jail," he sweetly said, snapping his fingers. And it was then when Gerard realized the small crowd of policemen closing in around him. Desperately, he tried calling out for any of the authorities to forget what they might've seen and heard on television and help him take care of the boy struggling to breathe in his arms, but Pete simply laughed at him, covering his pleas for help.

"They're not here to help you," he scoffed. "They're here to put you away."

"But Frankie's dying here!" Gerard snapped at Pete, before directing his anger at them all. Fuck controlling his emotions. For all he knew, Frank was dying in his arms. He had every right to feel however the fuck he wanted to feel. And his anger mounted as he saw the gleeful look on Irene's face. "How ridiculous can you all be?"

"How ridiculous could you be to think that any one of us would want to help you?" Pete asked smugly, and Gerard ignored him as he tried to get Frank's mother to spring into action.

"Ms. Iero," Gerard said, hoping to reach through to her. He lifted Frank up toward her slightly and pleaded she help get Frank better. "Please, help me."

Frank refused to face his mother and buried his head in Gerard's chest. Seeing his mother would only make him worse. The only person he wanted to see was Gerard, so that when he did pass out, that would be last thing he remembered. But Gerard was determined to get Frank better again, even if it meant trying to break the ice-cold nature that was Frank's mother. "Please Irene," he pleaded again. "Frank's dying."

"Pschh," she scoffed, waving her gloved hand. "He's not dying. He's choking. He'll either get over it in a couple minutes, or he'll pass out like he usually does."

Gerard was not one to curse at his elders, but he couldn't believe her. This was her son, and that was the best she had to say? "Fuck you."

"Excuse me?" she snapped, and two security guards stood beside her. That, Gerard noted, was something new since the last time they had met. Maybe the whole kidnapping thing brought them about. But Gerard didn't care. If they wanted to fight, he was ready.

"You heard me," Gerard said, holding tightly to Frank as he struggled to stay conscious. "Fuck you all, _you _especially. Your son is going through an episode here, and you all couldn't give two shits about it. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Frank let out a strained and frustrated cry as he felt himself slipping from consciousness, and Gerard mistook that for a cry of pain. His 'tough-boy' mentality immediately faltered as he looked over Frank, finally kneeling on the ground as he laid Frank down. He cleared the hair from Frank's face as Frank instinctively rested in a fetal position, refusing to look anywhere else but at Gerard's face. If he was going to pass out, Gerard's face was the last thing he wanted to see. He was bent on that.

"Frankie, shit." Gerard cursed, blinking away his own tears. He was so fucking scared right now. He'd never seen this happen to Frank, and people were brushing it off as if it was nothing.

How could people who claimed to love him even think such words as Irene and Pete had? He always wanted to give Mrs. Iero the benefit of the doubt, but she was proving to be just as bad as Pete. No wonder the family was so fond of the fucker, and no wonder Pete was presented with all those chances he had to have his way with Frank.

Looking at Gerard seemed to put off his breathing issues for a couple seconds, and as Gerard kissed his cheeks, Frank sobbed. He couldn't do this now, no. It couldn't end this way. He refused to let it end this way. Then again, he was in no position to do much about it.

"D-don't-t leave-ve me," Frank stammered, holding Gerard tightly. He shut his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the mounds of faces staring down at them as he tried to concentrate on the fact that Gerard was here holding him. He would be all right if he could sit here just for a bit longer, if his mother and Pete would even allow for that. He prayed to god that they would. And then Gerard could say goodbye to his brother and they could say their own last goodbye, like they were supposed to. That was the least they could fucking do, but Frank had a feeling none of that would happen.

"I won't," Gerard murmured, lifting Frank up so he was situated between his legs and against his chest.

"Don't bullshit now," Frank sobbed, looking up helplessly into the sky. Or at least, that was the intention. Instead, he landed straight in Pete's line of vision, and was met with a creepy smile. He shivered and Gerard held him close. The two of them were completely at Pete's mercy, the way Pete always liked things. They were surrounded by police, and at the flick of Pete's fingers they would be separated. Frank knew the fucker enjoyed having the power, enjoyed having him and Gerard completely unaware of when their true actual last moment would be.

"What do you want me to say, Frankie? I'm not," Gerard murmured, a bit relieved to see that Frank's breathing seemed to be less shortened, no matter how forced it indeed was. "I'll always be there for you, Frankie. If anyone ever makes you feel like shit, remember how it was with me and move on. If he's giving you the bullshit that he 'loves' you, you know what true love feels like. Don't settle for anything less."

"Then why am I giving you up?" Frank cried, and Pete felt something twist at the pit of his stomach as Frank's cries became deep and guttural. Frank was bawling like a baby at the loss of Gerard in his life, and Pete couldn't stand the sweet fluffy-shit that was going on. Since when did Frank ever care for someone?

Then again, since when did he ever get jealous over Frank?

Nervously, Pete looked up to see if anyone noticed his slip-up, but of course no one would. This was a mental battle he was having with himself, and they were too engorged with the immense fluff the couple on the ground was giving them. Even Mrs. Iero was watching intently, with a soft look in her eyes. It worried Pete.

And then the question rose to Pete as to why the two were still together, when the officers were simply waiting for his order. Why did he put himself through this when he could just end it now, before Mrs. Iero started pitying them? He couldn't have her be on their side too. He needed her sympathy over here!

With a small nod of his head, he motioned for the police officers to move in for the kill. Just as Pete feared, no one wanted to; the movement was slow, but they eventually fell in line, slowly closing the space between the couple and the spectators. They might have been worried about interrupting the couple's last chance at a 'goodbye' while the other one wasn't behind bars, but Pete didn't give a fuck. Besides, the fucking lovebirds were too deep in their own 'I love you' shit to notice anything going on around them anyway.

But Pete couldn't have been more wrong. While Gerard was busy kissing Frank's cheek, Frank saw the crowd closing in. If anything, that was what made him kick into gear and return Gerard's public affection the best he could. It was enough to send his airways into shock again, but this time he closed his eyes and took a breath, focusing on the fact that he was in Gerard's arms rather than noting the police were a couple yards away. And as Gerard murmured for Frank to get better, Frank cocked his head to the side and kissed Gerard's lips. Gerard kissed back as he ran his hand through Frank's hair and Frank tightly held on to Gerard's cheek and neck as his tongue slipped further into Gerard's mouth.

Irene lost it.

"Get them _now_!" she screeched, instead of allowing the officers to silently close in their last few yards. Life sprung into them and they ran down to the location promptly, yanking the two boys apart.

Her extremely high yell startled the both of them, and in no time the two were separated by an army of hands. Gerard looked desolately broken as he saw Frank crumble, screaming and yelling for his boyfriend. But Frank would never get Gerard back again, because as swiftly as the capture started, it ended.

Gerard was put in cuffs and walked down the hill toward the police car, passing the Benz he and Frank had made love in. Everything flooded back like a slap in the face, and he badly wished he'd fucked reason and left with Frank earlier. But now, he was in handcuffs and Frank was now in custody of his mother and Pete.

As they approached the patrol car, the officer tried to strike conversation with him, but it was obvious that Gerard wasn't in the mood to talk. He could tell, though, that the officer had second doubts as to whether or not Gerard was truly as guilty as the media had made him, but Gerard wasn't in the mood to entertain his questions.

Just as they neared the car, a piercing scream ripped through the air and Gerard winced as he heard Frank crying. Fuck, this hurt to so much! He wished he could go back in time and save the both of them from the heartache, but what good did wishing do?

Awkwardly, the policeman cleared his throat as they made it to the back of the car. It was hard not to view Gerard in different eyes after what just happened, but the law was the law. With Gerard's hands cuffed, he was faced against the door as the officer searched him for any weaponry. Once Gerard passed that test, the officer turned Gerard around and read him his Miranda rights, opening the door to the backseat of the patrol vehicle.

"Gerard Arthur Way," he started, but Gerard remained in his position, head against the car. The officer cleared his throat in an attempt to get some sort of response from him, but there was none as Gerard closed his eyes. There was another piercing scream for people to 'back the fuck off!' and Gerard squeezed his eyes shut tighter. All he could think about was what a mistake this was. Such a huge mistake…

Regardless, the officer continued and read Gerard the words that finalized him as a captured fugitive. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

So, this was it. The game was over, and Pete had won. Frank and he hadn't even seen it coming, either. When did things change so drastically? He and Frank were supposed to present themselves, say goodbye to Mikey, and then be on their way. But instead they were surrounded and separated without…Mikey.

In fact, Gerard wasn't stupid. He knew they'd been set up. As soon as all the funeral goers a.k.a. policemen left Pete alone on the top of the hill and surrounded him and Frank, he should have taken the hint. But he'd just thought the funeral goers were scared to see the 'wanted fugitive' down below and ran. But he definitely knew for sure the whole thing was a scam when he was surrounded. His parents hadn't been there, which meant there was no Mikey in the casket. And that meant that when Frank suggested they leave, he should have agreed, no questions asked. He'd done the stupidest thing imaginable and put faith in Irene and Pete that they would hold true to their word. And now Frank was back with them, and he was being sent off to jail.

Gerard remained silent as Frank's cries came to a halt and the officer put a sympathetic arm on his shoulder, breaking Gerard from his train of thought. "I'm sorry boy, but…do you understand?"

Gerard glared at him before he shrugged his shoulder away from the man's hand. Fine. The end had come, and Gerard didn't feel the need to be his sweet little self. Look at where it ended him? No one cared, so why should he? The only person worth caring for was taken away from him. And for once, this policeman's sympathy wasn't getting to him. He claimed to feel sorry, but was he really?

"Sonny, boy," he tried again, but the sweet, caring, and comforting boy that was with Frank on the hill had died the moment the cuffs were put on him and he was directed here. Gerard interrupted the officer's attempt at being kind and sat himself in the car, staring straight ahead. The officer tried one final time to break through the young man he'd arrested, but to no avail.

"Look I know it seems real bad now, but he was underage—"

"Fuck off," Gerard muttered as he stared straight ahead. "Just fuck off and do your job. That's all that matters to you people."

The officer shut up after he gave a huge sigh. There wasn't much he could say to the young man after that, since that was how it seemed. That was how it was. He was about to give him an apology, but thought better of it when he saw the convicted felon wasn't in the mood for anything. But he shouldn't have felt too bad. After all, the Iero kid was back with his family. If he really loved the kid, then he'd be happy for that at least.

He shut the back door and waited for the signal from his head boss before he entered his patrol car and drove his captive off to the station. Finally, this manhunt was over.


	61. Disguise

**Disguise**

Frank was aware he was sleeping: the hole in his heart was still gaping and the pain from the intense beating was real. The numbness was nowhere to be found, and he was sure the pain in his chest would never go away. He'd seen the police carry Gerard off like a criminal, the criminal he wasn't! And that, along with the act that he had to come to terms with his boyfriend being locked up, was too much for him and he'd passed out. Part of him was glad he'd passed out; he didn't know if he'd have been able to stand seeing Gerard being driven away. Besides, in real life he was…where he was, he didn't know. But at least in his dreams, Gerard was holding him, stroking his cheek as Frank cuddled in his embrace, breaths easy and clear as day. Gerard's arms were the only place Frank wanted to be. He didn't _belong _anywhere else.

Frank could feel himself tear at the thought of Gerard saying his last goodbyes and his heart immediately felt heavy. He'd tried to mentally prepare himself for the moment, but neither of them had expected to be torn away from the other one. It was supposed to be slow and gradual, but instead the two of them had put some of their trust in the Ieros. What a mistake.

Frank struggled to open his eyes; he was scared. When opened, this dream would be done and Gerard would be gone. He'd regretfully find himself back in the real world with his parents, Pete, and the media. Then again, he couldn't stay asleep forever. Gerard needed him now, he was the only person left on this earth that could honestly help him. He needed to do something, since Pete screwed him up.

Just the thought of Pete made Frank's heart begin to beat angrily, viciously pulsing blood through his veins. Ever since Frank started out as a youngin,' Pete was always there waiting to mess him up whenever he finally got it right. And unfortunately Pete was _still _here, doing what he did best.

With that last thought in mind, Frank was determined to remain unconscious. They couldn't do anything to Gerard, could they? They had already arrested him. Hopefully the worst was over.

That was wishful thinking at its best.

He needed to wake up, but he didn't want to stop imagining the comforting feel of Gerard's cheek against his own, or Gerard's soft lips. But as he dreamt of Gerard kissing his cheek, he smelled something unusual. Had he forgotten Gerard's aroma already? He was pretty damn sure Gerard didn't smell like weed and cigarettes.

Maybe the troublesome thoughts in his head were to blame. It was easy to replace a few minor details and get them mixed up, especially when Pete was rummaging through his mind as much as he was right now. Although he found it peculiar that after months of no contact, he seemed to hit Pete's aroma on the spot.

Frank tried his hardest to dig deeper and think about the smallest details concerning Gerard that he loved, like the way his hair would sometimes get in his face and how he'd tuck it back. Or how about the way he always gave Frank small and nervous glances as if he were worried Frank would just disappear. That was cute, but not nearly as cute as their first few days together in the motel, when Gerard would try to (and successfully) sketch him doing the most boring things. He loved the way Gerard treated him like another person, a person worth caring for. He wasn't regarded as a client, a nuisance, or a toy. It looked like Gerard actually wanted him, and that was a feeling that would be hard to get rid of.

There were these times, Frank remembered, when he let his guard completely down and Gerard would just stare at him for long moments at a time, his eyes full of love and concern, and at times he could detect wonder. Although, Frank never understood what there was about himself that left room for wondering. He wasn't that much of an interesting person. When it came to Gerard on the other hand, there was so much to wonder about. His mind was a wonderful thing, and there were many times when Frank wondered how Gerard's brain was wired, why he felt the need to watch over Frank more than necessary.

He remembered how alien the idea of pure hanging out was to him when he first met Gerard. Why on Earth would anyone want to hang out if there was no incentive, no money involved? Why waste valuable time without compensation? It was the way he was raised, and the one time it didn't apply, he'd essentially become someone's bitch. But Gerard wasn't like that at all; he wanted to spend time with him without anything in return, and no sex. It was baffling at first, but he'd gotten used to it. Gerard was one of a kind.

Frank also remembered the times when Gerard would hum to him while Frank slept (during the earlier stages). Such memories made Frank smile and his heart grew heavy as he remembered the earlier days when Gerard would play tough-guy by day and sappy-pansy by night, nervous and rightfully scared to tell Frank how he felt.

He missed it. He missed feeling Gerard's arms around his body, keeping him protected from the cold. He loved how Gerard made him feel like he was worth something, an important and valuable prize. Gerard made him forget about the foolish manhunt they were very much involved in, especially during times when they sat and cuddled, doing nothing but being in each other's presence.

And now here he was alone, pathetically trying to replay the scenes in his sorry mind that refused to accept reality. He was a coward, really. He had known what he and Gerard were getting into, and now they were here. Gerard was gone from him and he was gone from Gerard. He had to wake up and face the music, which meant that he had to gain consciousness.

Although, it wasn't a hard task once he realized he was already on his way. He had been shuffling in bed, snuggling deeper into the sheets and burrowing his head against the pillow. It was still a funny feeling because he could have sworn he could still feel the faint trace of Gerard's lips against his skin, and he gave a low groan as he remembered their last intimate moment; he was craving Gerard's touch so much and he sighed as he imagined Gerard rubbing him, nuzzling his nose with his own, murmuring to him all the while how much he loved him…

But as the strong smell of weed and cigarettes hit his nostrils, Frank cringed and cried out. He tried to shift his position, and it was then when he realized he was actually being held.

Immediately Frank's eyes sprang open, before harshly shutting once more from the bright lights. This wasn't his room and those weren't Gerard's arms around him. But they were real and currently strangling him. He could feel the hair brush against his cheek and he coughed as the aroma hijacked his senses. He struggled to be rid of the smell, but the hold only tightened as the culprit buried his face in the crook of Frank's neck.

Frank's eyes made their way to his mother and father, who were simply staring on the sidelines. It's not like he expected them to do anything about the hug. He didn't even know why he bothered to look in their direction. No one could make up for the lack of Gerard's presence. However, his mother's newfound affectionate tone did throw him off a bit.

"Oh, the two of you are just too cute!" Frank heard his mother exclaim, and he groaned to himself as he shook his head. Pete retracted for a moment and smiled at Irene, giving Frank a moment to himself. His mother's _annoying _voice, simply reminded him of his last moment with Gerard and how she ruined it. As far as Frank was concerned, she was just as bad as Pete.

Irene smiled at him and waved. He simply glared.

"It's still going to take a while for me to get used to them together," Frank heard his father admit, and he couldn't help but look at him questionably. "I mean, I…I never thought of you as…"

"It's okay," he heard Pete tell his father, and Frank instinctively flinched as he felt Pete hold him again.

Hell had arrived too soon.

'Fuck off,' Frank aimed to threaten as he sat up, but he was surprised to only hear the sounds "fwugh ugh" leave his mouth. He tried again and he could hear Pete chuckling. His mother mistook it for something 'cute' and whatever other shit she was talking about, but that chuckle wasn't new to Frank; he knew what was going through Pete's head. It was quite obvious, really. With the muffled speech, Frank knew his mouth was stuffed and he was essentially gagged right now with a tube down his throat to help him breathe. He wasn't amused at all at Pete's immaturity, and took it Pete hadn't found a person to get some from (so to speak) while he was gone.

"Shh, baby," Pete cooed, kissing Frank lightly on the cheek. Frank kept his glare, but soon cringed as he felt Pete lick him. While part of him had reclined from the lick because of who was doing it, he was more shocked that Pete actually decided to do so in front of his parents. That was pretty bold of him, but wasn't Pete worried about Frank's dad finding out especially? Then again, things would work out fine if Pete screwed up and eventually turned himself in, so Frank dropped the matter.

"You guys are really perfect for each other," Irene stated in a tone similar to the one Frank heard while pretending to doze off. Immediately, he felt his throat close up again. She had just seen Pete lick him, right? Was his mother saying what he thought she was saying?

"Look!" Pete pretended to happily giggle, and Frank froze. "Frank seems to agree."

"Aggh wee ooh wah?" Frank demanded, but he sounded less threatening than he'd hoped. Pete sneakily took advantage of the situation and pinched Frank's cheeks.

"Do you hear him, Irene?" Pete questioned, making himself blush. "He said, 'I want you back'!"

"Awww, Frank!" Mrs. Iero squealed. "Don't worry. If you're well enough, Pete can sleep in here tonight."

What? No! Something was extremely wrong here. Since when did Pete and his mother become best of friends? Why would his mother want Pete to sleep in the same room as him? Why was his mother okay with the idea that he 'wanted' Pete back? Why wasn't his father saying anything?

"Whegh eeme moh," Frank demanded as he struggled in Pete's grasp, and Pete blushed again as Irene eagerly demanded a translation.

"He said, 'want him now,'" Pete lied, and pretended to look embarrassed. It wasn't that he actually was embarrassed: it was more about the fact that he couldn't wait to stuff Frank's mouth with something else later on…

"Well, Frank," Irene said to her son, rubbing his shoulder. Frank tried to recoil but found that his nerves had been shot. Pathetically, he remained where he was and eerily stared at her.

He couldn't believe this was happening. They must have been in an alternate universe or something. This much couldn't have changed. Pete wasn't _that _much of a genius, was he?

Irene returned her sincere gaze at her son after she briefly checked on her husband and continued. "You and Pete love each other very much, and we've been thinking—"

"Meaning your mother and I," Mr. Iero interjected, and Mrs. Iero nodded at him tersely, warning him to shut up. Irene hoped he would leave, because despite the hard shell that was her husband, she knew how he truly felt about the situation. Now was not the time to be disappointed in their son, nor was it the time to redirect his frustration about the whole ordeal on Frank being gay. But Irene didn't have to worry about that, as Mr. Iero chose the smartest thing to do and left the room.

"Anyway, you have to understand, Frank, that this is very hard for your father," Irene continued, and she looked at Pete. "Very hard. But we decided we only want you to be happy, and it's okay if you and Pete start a relationship."

Frank's eyes doubled in size and he tried to think of something to coherently say so his mother could understand, but he couldn't. He had to let his mother's words sink in, first. That, in itself, would be time-consuming.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," Irene said, frowning as she saw Frank's reaction. "But your father and I aren't mad at you, okay? We…we know about everything, Frank. Pete told us. And we'd rather you have sex with Pete than with a complete stranger; someone who we can trust."

Frank silently looked from his mother to Pete, all the while wondering what the hell Pete could have told them to let this happen. His eyes were no longer wide but his rage was still there, masked underneath the intense tubes and drugging. Frank could feel Pete playing the role of 'concerned lover' and his heart ached for Gerard. He wanted Gerard to come through the hospital doors and save him, laugh at him and tell him what a huge joke this was.

But instead of Gerard, a nurse entered the room. She was dressed in purple scrubs and had her brunette hair tied to the back in a messy bun; she seemed liked she was in her thirties. He'd hoped for Gerard, but it was obvious he wasn't going to get him. And this brunette nurse was the farthest thing from looking like Gerard. Even as she kicked everyone out the room, Frank couldn't find it in his heart to like her. She was like the rest of them, he knew; no one cared, they were just doing their job.

"I'll speak to you later, okay?" Irene told her son, kissing Frank's forehead. Frank grumbled and shrugged her away. But Irene didn't let that bother her. She had said she was determined to reconnect with her son once he was back, and she was going to stick to it. After Frank's public display of disaffection toward his mother, she simply smiled at the nurse and thanked her for her time as she exited the room. Pete followed suit, only he snuck a glance at Frank that seemed more like the old Pete he knew. It was a warning, Frank knew; say anything and you'll have hell to pay for.

The nurse stared Frank up and down before she heavily sighed, picking up and taking a look at the charts at the foot of Frank's gurney. After shaking her head at the charts, she looked down to see the patient on the bed. "Frank, is it?" Frank stared her down and immediately she could sense the hostile atmosphere in the room. Of course his name was Frank, it was in that precious fucking chart of hers, wasn't it?

"Well," she continued, shutting it. "We'll have to run a physical on you to make sure no extensive damage has been done." Instantly Frank became aware of the marks littering his body, but he remembered that how he got them and he relaxed. He was an adult. He didn't need to hide anything anymore.

Naturally Frank said nothing, as the tube was jammed down his airway and needed it removed to make any coherent sense. The nurse caught on though, and chuckled at his situation. "I forgot," she explained, as she put on gloves and gathered the correct material to exit the tube.

Frank remained silent as the nurse proceeded to clear the tube from his airway. It was uncomfortable, but much needed he had to agree. As soon as the concoction was removed from his airway, he took deep breaths and was instantly reminded of Gerard. It was only natural. While with him, that had been the only time he had no problems breathing for such a long period. For that, each breath would forever be linked to his sweetheart.

The thought and realization that his 'sweetheart' was now trapped in jail troubled Frank, and his breaths became labored once again. The nurse realized his reaction and tried to soothe Frank, murmuring that his boyfriend was okay and waiting for him. She had known what had gone down, and she knew that in order to stabilize him, the patient needed to be comforted that his boyfriend was okay. The story had been passed on to the hospital personnel, and in fact they were going to bend rules a little and allow for his boyfriend to stay in with him tonight.

"He is?" Frank asked, sounding hopeful. She nodded as she fluffed his pillow and pointed outside the room.

"Where?" Frank frantically asked, rising in his gurney. It was the first time he made any sense at all today, and for good reason. She was telling him that Gerard was here. Maybe, just maybe, they had seen the spectacle and trusted him enough to let him out of jail, at least until his condition got better. Fuck, if it was true, maybe his folks weren't that bad. But as he craned his neck to see outside the window, his heart fell. "I-I don't see him."

"Right there," the nurse said, rubbing Frank's shoulder as an outline of Pete became visible. "You see?" she continued, and Frank desolately fell back on the gurney. She couldn't detect his disappointment as she continued, "he's right there, and he'll be here for you when you wake up again."

Frank sighed as tears welled in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. He couldn't cry; he was back to his old life now. Crying was not allowed, not for anyone or anything. They wanted Frank back, they were going to _get _Frank back.

Frank simply shrugged and wordlessly lay back down, starting his silent treatment to the world.

* * *

It only took a week for things to fall back in line, the way they were before Gerard came along. Strangers entered and left the house as usual, and it took some time for Frank to become readjusted. But he was used to being alone once again after three years, seldom leaving the house. Only difference was that Gerard was no longer with him. Frank also had to get used to Pete poking in his room every now and then, and he had to get used to the new face of Sara that was always seen tagging along. He had wondered a bit with what had happened to Tina, but he honestly didn't care.

His father was something Frank didn't think of much while he was gone, but it was apparent that he wanted to make amends. Same held for Frank's mother, but there was only so much he could handle. He nearly shit his pants when his father entered his room one day. There was a faint knock on the door, so Frank knew off the bat that Pete wasn't the one on the other end. It could either be Sara or a businessman who had lost his way. He didn't feel like dealing with either of them.

As soon as the door opened, Frank gave a grumble as to warn the lost soul away. His room belonged to him, and he rarely left unless he needed to use the bathroom. Food wasn't even a problem for him: that's what take-out and delivery was for, and it wasn't even as if he ate much anyway, thanks to what he'd endured before and during Gerard's time.

"Wrong room," he muttered, with his eyes still on his laptop (another we-love-you gift from his parents). It was ironic how it was this gift from his parents that Frank was using to find a way to avenge the wrong-doing on the man they hated. Although had anyone been questioned, they would have thought Frank didn't give a fuck about Gerard. That was far from the truth, but in order to pull things the right way, he had to pretend. He needed Gerard to hate him, needed the world to ignore him so he could run his master plan.

"Frank, I want…I need to talk to you."

Immediately, Frank jumped up from what he was doing and shut his laptop down with force. It wasn't a smooth move at all, but he couldn't help it. He wasn't expecting his dad here at all, and if anything he expected his dad to yell at him for something he'd done. Knowing his dad, his father was probably shitting bricks over the fact that he missed his chance to go to college. But even that was shot down as his father dropped down an exception letter from Harvard. Frank stared at it blankly.

"I don't get a 'thank you'?" Mr. Iero asked, and Frank simply shook his head with his eyes still on the large white envelope. His father had been doing this every year since Gerard's capture. Maybe the first time Frank saw the envelope he was amazed. But it started losing its affect the third time.

"No."

The silence remained and Frank left the envelope where it was. Mr. Iero shifted in his spot, trying to still get accustomed to his son's new bold attitude. He'd thought showing Frank that he found a way to get him into the oldest and most well known college in America would somehow make up for things, but he was wrong every year. And it didn't seem like the right conversation starter either, because Frank resumed whatever it was he was doing on the computer…as always.

"I, um…can I talk to you?" Mr. Iero asked instead, and he could tell it threw Frank off a bit. Frank, instead of giving a smart-ass reply, simply shrugged and shut off his computer. Maybe this would end quickly. But he wasn't going to let his father get off the hook so quickly. Simply, Frank raised his brow. After treating him for years as a nuisance, Frank intended to do the same.

"Go ahead."

His father gave a nervous smile before opting to sit next to his son on his bed, and Frank visibly shifted. His father mistook the discomfort as a call for familiarity and his father opted to call for Pete. Frank warned him if he called for Pete then he could just leave, so Mr. Iero thought better of that.

"Well, I…I just want to talk to you, Frank," he started.

"So talk," Frank replied, drumming his fingers along the laptop. He had things to do, a lover to save…

"I just wanted to…to tell you that while I may not have showed it much, I do care about you."

"Okay." Frank gave him yet another blank look, which was nothing for Mr. Iero to go on.

"And I got you into Harvard so that this little mistake you made won't harm the rest of your life," he explained to his son.

"I got the message the first time around when you waved it in my face," Frank said.

Usually, responses like these would land Frank a beating, but the psychologist had said that some back-talk and hostility was expected from someone like him, who had just undergone what he'd undergone. All Mr. Iero had to give was time, because eventually, Frank would 'come around.' Mr. Iero just didn't expect for it to take Frank nearly three years though.

"And it's okay if you're…gay," he finally spat out.

"What made you finally realize?" Frank asked, a bit angered by his father's sudden realization. His father made it seem like this was the first time the idea was mentioned. What's more, what did Frank care if his father thought it was okay? He'd been going along his 'gay' way regardless of how his father fit in the picture. "Was it when I tried to tell you three years ago, or was it the fact that Pete told you something?"

"Pete told us everything," he answered his son. "And I'm sorry I wasn't there earlier. But that's why I agreed for you and Pete to see each other, if it makes you happy."

"Gerard made me happy!" Frank spat at his father. "I don't want the fucktard I have now, you fucking idiot. All of you are just…get the fuck out."

"Frank, watch your language." Mr. Iero gripped his belt for show, but he really felt the urge to hit his son. Despite the fact that was the most Frank had said to him since this all started, wallowing in self-pity for three years over some stranger was too much for his liking. And not only was Frank's mind still on Gerard, but he had been ignoring Pete. In fact, Pete had been asked to move in to help quicken things, but Frank apparently wasn't giving in. He wouldn't let anyone in or out of his room. It was like he was locking himself away from the world.

"What?" Frank chuckled, nodding over to the belt his father was sporting. "You gonna beat me, daddy?"

The way he'd said it sounded overly sexual, and Mr. Iero felt sick. He took a look at Frank before quietly exiting the room, and Frank fell back on his bed, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He missed Gerard so much.

After a moment of regaining his composure, Frank rose once more to lock the door. And as he went back to his bed and opened up his laptop, he shook his head. After a few moments though, Frank grasped the huge envelope that contained his acceptance letter and played with the closed flap. Maybe his dad was right, and mourning over a complete stranger for three years was three years too much. The only person stopping him from going ahead was himself, and maybe college would do him some good…

* * *

Jail was the wrong place for a man like Gerard to be. Sure, he could be let out with bail, but who would ever pay the bond? Frank was back where he belonged with the rest of the Iero family, and it seemed like he had become yesterday's news. For the last two years, the Ieros owned the television gossip channels, but never had Frank said anything to proclaim Gerard's innocence. Yet, there were rumors going around that Frank had found someone. And with the look on Pete's face it wasn't hard to figure out whom that 'someone' was.

The first year in captivity was the hardest, as he remained in jail. Things were quiet at first, but got worse as the year progressed. It was nerve-wracking to see other suspects tried and convicted before you were, even if you had been in there the longest. But the Ieros were smart, and instead of sentencing Gerard right away they chose to let him suffer in jail for as long as possible, which is what happened. And it wasn't long before his name was spread and his 'crime' well-known.

The day of the sentencing was the most humiliating of all. He had gone to the courtroom dressed in petty jail clothing and opted to defend himself without a lawyer. Getting a lawyer from the government would never work out for him. The Ieros would simply pay him off, like they did already. When Gerard first met with his lawyer, they seemed to have some really good evidence against the Ieros. But after their third or so meeting, his lawyer had changed the game plan. Things that seemed to damning were now 'nothing important' and he went from pleading 'not guilty' and even suing the Ieros to 'guilty.' Without a doubt, he had been bribed. But rather than give up, Gerard kicked him to the curb and created his own defense.

Only thing was that Gerard should have just plead guilty. All the damning evidence he and his ex-lawyer had gone over was just proven to be 'insignificant,' as it turns out the Ieros knew everything Gerard was going to say and already had good comebacks. Had he plead guilty, his sentence wouldn't have been so high. But he'd plead not guilty, so his fate was doomed.

Despite being humiliated, the hardest part of all was seeing Frank sitting silently in Pete's grasp. If Gerard wasn't sure about things before, that was his big eye-opener. He was sentenced to ten years for merely kidnapping Frank, another consecutive sixty years was in order for raping Frank for as long and stealthily as he had, and life for the murder of his brother. And he couldn't even appeal the order until fifty years.

What bothered Gerard most was that throughout the whole thing, Frank had nothing to say; he had no reaction at all.

The old Gerard completely died that day.

* * *

  
Gerard rose, in shackles and all, as he headed into the prison van. He'd been stripped of his clothing a while ago, now replaced with a tacky orange uniform and old worn boots. If one thing he'd been faithfully thankful for, it was his hair. They hadn't cut it yet, and he was hoping they wouldn't. Part of him wondered if he'd just been lucky or if it was part of the procedure to be given the option.

The ride to prison was a quiet one. For some reason, the condemned convicts seemed un-eased by Gerard's presence. Gerard couldn't blame them. With his new glum outlook on life and the things he was convicted of doing, it would make sense to steer clear of him. Wouldn't want him to lash out and kidnap you, molest you, and then finish things off by killing your mother, now would you? No one could really tell with Gerard. He was a quiet motherfucker who seemed capable of anything.

"Now, I'm going to say this one time," the state official said, walking along the lines of criminals exiting their means of transportation. Gerard stared at the ground. "This isn't home sweet home. This is Prison. You screw up, and you become someone's bitch."

Gerard scoffed but kept it to himself. Like anyone would try to fuck him up. All he had to do was stare at someone and they would run the other way. Nothing had to be said or done. The fact that he molested an Iero was dangerous enough. But of course that would make him the object of attention, and the guard made sure to acknowledge his presence to the whole group.

"Well, if it isn't the infamous Iero-fucker!"

Gerard shook his head and bit his lip so he wouldn't come off as smirking, but he couldn't help it as he thought of Frank's probable response. He could imagine the old Frank laughing his ass off at the nick-name. There was no doubt Frank would have approved, and then commenced with the very reason as to why Gerard would be known for such a thing.

But those times were long gone.

"Is there something funny?" The female guard snapped at Gerard, lifting him by his chin. Gerard shrugged and shook his head. She didn't like being made fun of, so she decided to advertise Gerard's charges, knowing how popular such things were with fellow inmates.

"Something funny about molesting a kid?" she asked, smirking to herself now. For the first time, Gerard spoke aloud to his fellow inmates. He cringed inwardly as he realized who he sounded like, but there was really nothing else to say. Frank had given up fighting for him, and that left him absolutely no one. There was nothing else to do but play the part.

"I didn't give him anything he didn't want."

"Oh," she said, nodding. "And your brother?"

"Got what was coming to him for fucking with me," Gerard muttered almost instantly. It wasn't that hard to act as if he'd actually done the deed. The world believed it, and for the past year he spent in the jail cell he'd been fed that lie.

"Hm." She took one more look into Gerard's eyes before letting go of his chin and biting her lip. He was a funny character, that one. Then again, anyone willing to mess with the Ieros had to have been pretty fucked up.

"Well, like I said," she continued, shrugging at the rest of them as she walked away from Gerard. "Mess up, and you become Gerard's bitch here. Oh, and he'll throw in a murder for free."

* * *

Gerard had now spent a good year in prison, and he could honestly say it wasn't what he'd expected. But it wasn't hard for him to adjust. It was pretty much the way it was advertised to be: a big detention home. Only difference was that in this detention you got an hour of free-time and you had breakfast, lunch, and dinner for free. You were given your own little room (or cell, it depended on what you wanted to call it, really) and you got free cable. There were books to read, people to fuck, nice toilets, and a bunk-bed buddy (otherwise known as cellmate if you wanted to get technical). What made things the best was that it was in the room where you were forced to spend 4/5 of the day. Prison was a whole lot more hospitable then jail, since most there were stuck there for long-term. Sure, you were told when to eat, go outside, and shower. But everything else was up to you while in your room; you could do whatever the fuck you wanted. And that's exactly what Gerard did.

He actually wanted to thank Frank even more for the time that they shared together. Not only was it the right thing for them to turn each other in, but Gerard seemed to fit right at home here. Life in Prison was not much different from the life he lived with Frank. The only difference was that the man that occupied his bunk sometimes wasn't his beloved, but Gerard forced himself to get over that real quick. Frank could never be his, nor did it seem like Frank _wanted _to be his.

After years apart from Frank and not hearing a single thing from him, he couldn't help it as the thoughts entered his head. He and John, his bunk-buddy, had seen Frank on television on numerous occasions. Not once had Frank spoken to the public and tell them the truth about what happened, and Gerard refused to bother to set things straight if Frank wasn't interested. In fact, John only knew about Gerard what he heard on the television: he was a murderer and child-molester. Usually, child-molesters got what was coming to them in Prison, but in Gerard's case no one wanted to mess with him since he had added murder along to his résumé. That wasn't the typical child-molester right there, and so they steered clear. At least, those who could steer clear did. And those who messed with him were…taken care of.

Of course Gerard did none of the 'dirty work,' so to speak. Almost a week into his Prison life he was given a posse. He didn't want one, nor did he ask for one. But apparently 'owning' the Iero kid and stealing him from all the security was a match of its own, and soon his quiet demeanor became a trademark: silent but deadly. Drug lords in the Prison admired him as much as the petty thieves. He was their celebrity, and along with the celebrity status came attention.

Officers of the Prison kept their eyes on Gerard, but there was nothing they could honestly do. Try as they might, those who crossed Gerard ended up badly hurt on their own accord. He had nothing to do, nor was he responsible for the actions of his followers, all of whom he never really asked for.

As for the sex? None of it meant anything, and he wasn't _supposed _to be fucking other guys in Prison (part of the rules). But his view on it was, why let it go to waste? There was no way he was willing to get emotionally attached to anyone, and he had his needs. If the men at Prison were so willing, why on Earth would he deny them? No one would ever beat Frankie—no one could. Some tried to imitate how they thought the Iero kid would like to be fucked when they were with him, but Gerard kept the sexcapades to himself. The moments he and Frank shared were intimate moments, and no one else had to know about them.

Believe it or not, Gerard still thought about Frank for a long time. It drove John crazy some nights, but he started ignoring Gerard once he was littered with 'attention' from him. It was one thing to sit there and simply listen to how much Gerard missed some underage boy, but it was another when Gerard was missing the boy and fucking you. Yeah, that last part John could deal with.

And John took full advantage of that up until the time when he was called down to the office for his release date. He'd been in Prison for thirteen years after a drug-deal bust, and his time for freedom was coming up in a couple of weeks. When Gerard learned this, he wasn't nearly as sad as John would have hoped for him to be. While it was true that John was far from in love with Gerard, he was still hurt by the fact that all their casual fucks seemed to be simply…casual. There was no hint of 'I'm gonna miss you' or 'Good luck' in Gerard's eyes, and John couldn't face him.

Luckily, John didn't need to. With the release date nearing, he was moved to another cell and Gerard was left alone to ponder about his past with Frank. Frank was a big-shot now, being driven in expensive cars and protected by body guards. Frank was well dressed and well groomed. Frank's new look (the one that Gerard helped him get) was edgy and sexy. Frank was admitted in Harvard (thanks to money, no doubt) and was going to study Law. Frank was a single 18 year old that had everything going for him. But most importantly, Frank was no longer Gerard's.

That was what hurt the convict the most. He missed him to pieces. He might not have liked to face that fact, but it was there. It was everywhere. He knew that was why John constantly grew annoyed, but the only reason he hadn't heard anything from John's mouth was due to the sex he was giving him. That was no secret. But he couldn't help to laugh at John when the man expected Gerard to feel something about their time together when they both knew who Gerard's mind was on at the time they did whatever they did.

The doors to Gerard's cell opened as it became time for showering. Lazily, he picked up his things and headed for the showers. Of all the men who headed down to the facilities, many averted his gaze. They knew what he was doing there, and Gerard was sure the prison guards knew as well. But for some reason, no one ever stopped him. They must have been scared to fuck with the man who was crazy enough to fuck with the Ieros. Gerard had never understood the intensity of the stunts he supposedly pulled, but if he was to be stuck in Prison, he couldn't ask for a better title.

Gerard stayed in the showers until the stragglers came along. Stragglers consisted of newbies, and they were the easiest to prey on. Gerard knew a thing or two about being preyed on during his first days, but had set the record straight after a couple of fist fights. Yes, Gerard had gotten into fights.

Simply talking about fucking the Iero kid and killing your brother could only get you so far.

It was a jungle in Prison, but luckily Gerard fit in quite nicely. And, to be fair, he couldn't go on much further without thanking Pete for everything as well. He was dirt poor before, but now everything was free. He could have gotten everything free along with Frank, but he couldn't have his cake and eat it too. Plus, there was no way (apparently) that Pete would settle for the latter option, so he'd have to deal with this for now.

Gerard kept his eye on a timid looking fellow with nice dark-brown hair and blue eyes. He looked clean-cut, almost like he didn't belong here. Gerard would have said the same for himself, but he realized that everyone could fit in Prison if they tried hard enough. This fellow wasn't. Gerard was going to change that.

Quietly, he entered the shower with a couple hundred other guys. His eyes remained on the timid man and with the look in Gerard's eyes, the surrounding men all knew what was going down. They averted Gerard's gaze on his new victim and continued with whatever they were doing, whether it be showering, jacking off, or fucking someone of their own. The brief eye-contact they made with Gerard was simply a silent agreement to back the fuck off of that man: he was Gerard's today.

"Hey," Gerard casually spoke, nodding at the young man and watching him squirm. It was obvious that he felt great unease from showering in public, especially with the way Gerard was blatantly staring at him.

"H-hi," he stammered, making the mistake of looking in Gerard's eyes. Nothing was there (another trick he'd learned from Pete), but Gerard was able to further lure him in and cause the man to fumble his soap bar. With a gentle thud it hit the tiled floors. Gerard looked at him and smirked, biting his lip as he started to rub the man's upper shoulder. The man could tell he was in for quite a ride, and Gerard couldn't help but smile at how easily he seemed to have trapped the newbie. With a glint in his eyes, he lowered his head and whispered to the young adult what every man feared upon entering the shower.

"You dropped your soap."

* * *

This wasn't anything Sara would have asked for, but it was too late to back out now. She knew everything about the whole Iero deal, thanks to Tina's stunt that she pulled before she was 'initiated' into Pete's line of work. At the time she felt sorry for Tina, but she too couldn't help but fall a bit for Pete. She too wanted to take care of him.

It wasn't a hard decision, really. All one had to do was think about things from poor Petey's perspective. Deep inside that hardened soul was a lost little boy. And after being forced to do certain things, she understood why he did what he did. Pete needed protection, and he needed to find a secure way to convince Frank that all of the things he'd done were out of love. Sara believed him when he said that, and she could see why and how his actions could have been…misread.

In fact, she had instructed Pete to stay away from Frank for the first couple of weeks, years even. But this week she was going to allow him to slowly enter Frank's life again. He already lost Frank before, and he needed Frank to recover before he entered his life again. Besides, Frank was coming back home from college this week, and maybe Frank ended up missing Pete more than he realized. She could bet that Frank spent every day teased about the stunt that happened with him and Gerard, and was pretty sure that Frank would come running to Pete. At least, she hoped things worked this way. As she learned, Pete didn't deal well when faced with rejection.

Of course, it wasn't easy for Pete to convince her that he'd loved him. But he seemed to be sincere, and Tina actually confirmed her thoughts. She'd always been complaining about the extra attention Pete showered Frank with, after all. It only made sense, and it wasn't like Pete had lied to her completely before. Why would he now?

She was certain she'd be able to close the gap between Frank and Pete in the next week. She'd convinced the Ieros of a much needed break and vacation. And it was her plan that while they were gone, the two boys could reconnect. She was sure that Frank would fall for Pete then. Sure Frank seemed like a tough boy now, but she was just convinced that all Pete needed to give him was time. And so, they would wait.

* * *

Three months was a long way to go without publicly displaying thoughts of his Gerard, but he did it. For his plan, it had to be done. He had to go back to acting like the Frank he was before the whole ordeal, if not even better adjusted than before. No one had to suspect him, and no one would suspect him if he seemed to take a liking to the spotlight. So yes he flashed the fancy cars, he wore designer clothes and glasses, and was even seen at Pete's side. He just hoped everyone but that one person saw or realized his sudden coziness. It would be a shame if he lost the one person he was trying to get back.

As for Pete, he had surprisingly stayed away from Frank. It wasn't something Frank was expecting, but he was okay with that. Besides, it fit with what he wanted to do. Knowing Pete, he was just waiting for the opportune moment. Luckily enough for Frank, he was waiting too.

He'd learned a lot about the law while at Harvard, taking various law and history classes and the rest. And while over there, he kept fortifying his master plan, now almost three and a half years in the making. He knew what he was going to do this week when he got back home.

It was time to show Pete just how much he mattered to him.


	62. Déjà vu, I'm Using You

**Déjà vu, I'm Using You**

Frank threw off the itchy Harvard wool sweater as he slipped into his childhood home, panting from the harsh downpour of the rain. Down in Cambridge it had been a bit chilly, and Jersey was no better. But it would be smart of Frank to take advantage of the rain slamming against his thin t-shirt that lay underneath the sweater. It would help him out in the end, he guessed. Then again, he wasn't even sure about what would happen tonight, so the rain didn't really matter. Yet, the rain somehow awakened Frank's senses, and he became extremely alert as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

For whatever reason, Frank took of his sweater and stood under the rain for a good couple of minutes, long enough to make himself drenched. And once he was drenched, he made his way underneath the porch so he could clear his mind.

He stood around as he looked at his neighborhood for the first time since he'd been back. Truth be told, he kind of missed it. After growing up in a community full of people that kept to themselves, it was odd to be thrust into an atmosphere where everyone tried to bond. The only person Frank had ever bonded successfully with was Gerard, and he'd wanted to keep it that way. So college, needless to say, was a very awkward place for someone like Frank to be, where all his peers tried to find a way into his life. He didn't want them, nor did he need them. And unbelievably, even in an open atmosphere like a university, Frank was a loner. On a positive note, he didn't get beat up like he used to be. For starters, his new attitude did not allow it. And if that always failed, the fact remained that he was the only child of the very much so famous Irene and Anthony Iero, an heir to billions of dollars.

Despite the many attempts his father had made for him to go to Harvard years ago, he wasn't sure what had finally made him crack this year. Frank searched his head for the answer every night he was away, instead of staying up late nights to cram for the latest assessment or finish the last assignment. He hated the answer he came up with every night, but perhaps the reason he hated it so much was because of its validity.

He'd lost his focus: Gerard was no longer a priority.

It was the only thing that made sense. The first year without Gerard, Frank had tried his hardest for him. But his hardest wasn't enough, since Gerard still ended up in jail without parole until fifty years. That decision was the ultimate sentence, and there was nothing he could do to set Gerard free for half a century. That was what people had told him.

Of course, none of them could be trusted, and Gerard would most likely never even have a chance for parole. This case was big news, and those who had sense knew who to side with. Had Frank been an attorney, he too would side with the parents, the owners of 'Iero Incorporated.' Sure, their son's side of the story may seem interesting, but who'd be able to pay more?

That's what it always came down to. Gerard's case was no different.

Part of him had wished he hadn't promised himself to free Gerard. While Gerard had told him time and time again that he didn't see it possible, with how adamantly Frank offered to devote the rest of his life to him, it was an obligation. Frank did owe that to Gerard, and he still did feel for him. But with the hope diminishing and with how easily things seemed to fall back in line, he'd lost sight of what he was supposed to do.

Gerard was in jail and now out of the picture. Not once had he gone to visit Gerard, nor was he allowed to go alone. If he couldn't go alone, then Frank refused to go at all: he would have had to go with Pete or his parents, and they were unwanted company. Frank, therefore, couldn't meet up with Gerard all those years, nor was he motivated to. With the discouragement, it became a whole lot easier to adjust to his old/new life. There were times when he thought he'd relapse. It was hard to completely adjust when he smelled Gerard's perfume, used the shampoo he used to use, or wore his clothes.

Yup, the bag of things Gerard had given Frank had been stuffed somewhere in his closet.

Frank returned there once in a blue moon, only on days when he felt brainwashed by his activities. He'd go to his closet, smell Gerard's clothes (they'd lost their unique aura by now and smelled like mothballs, but it was still comforting), and flip through his sketchbook, which was filled with many doodles of Frank and the two of them, as well as little notes on how 'cute' Frank was while he was sleeping, or on how 'adorable' a pouty Frank was.

Eventually, Frank had forced himself to learn how to move on, and only went back to the book when he rethought the situation. Besides, with every interview he spent in Pete's arms, and with how eagerly his parents seemed to bless their relationship, Frank found himself going along with the act and imagined Pete as Gerard. That's the only way he could allow Pete to caress him in public, kiss him on the cheek, or even on the lips. But as soon as the two of them were alone, Frank's fantasy world was destroyed and he pushed Pete away. If there was no proof remaining of the fact that he and Gerard had happened, the courage he drew to stand up to Pete was strong enough. After some time, though, Pete backed off. That was something Frank never thought would happen, but he guessed Gerard was right when it came to standing up for yourself.

And he maybe didn't forget about Gerard completely. There were times he'd snap back to his senses and insult the shit out of his parents, Tina, Pete, and that new girl. But after that, there wasn't much he could do. There was no way he could voice his true thoughts, or else they'd lock him up in a mental institution. And being locked up in a mental institution was no way to get Gerard freed. Hell, the last couple of years he was only half-assing his attempt of saving Gerard and being pissy about it. But it was better to be in the house than locked up somewhere.

Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to, and actually taking a 'break' to go to college just made things worse. Back at home, he had his parents, Pete, and that new girl encouraging him to forget Gerard. (Tina had disappeared; he wasn't sure how but never cared to ask.) And even when they failed, he would talk himself into it after remembering he had to move on. Gerard probably had a lot of fuck buddies, so he couldn't be completely lonely.

Yet at college there was nothing there to keep him leveled, and he would just lie in bed, stare at the ceiling, and think. His psyche couldn't take it anymore. To the public eye, the magazines, and tabloids, Frank had successfully moved on and was happy. But inside, he was slowly killing himself for going along with it for such a long period of time.

However, college did kind of help in its own way and Frank had to give credit where it was due, though had he known a bit more he could have easily done the research on his own. While he was out of college and sitting around at home in Pete's arms, surrounded by strangers, there were excuses as to why he hadn't searched any info to help Gerard. However, while in college and while enrolled in certain classes, these searches were mandatory and possible once Pete, his parents, and people of the like were out of his life. He had no reason to pretend his life was now perfect, and he had no reason to come up with some excuse as to why he was searching and interested in particular cases.

And because of this (as well as his own internal battle), Frank rarely spent his time around people. Had Gerard been aware, he'd be disappointed. But Frank didn't care about that. While he might have made it his mission to be anti-social, he paid much attention in his classes, hoping to one day put the knowledge into real life situations.

He'd had his share of court cases. There was one particular case about Robert Doyle that caught Frank's attention. He'd molested both of his daughters, yet he'd been set free due to 'lack of evidence.' There wasn't any real evidence that Gerard had molested him, nor was there evidence that Gerard had killed Mikey. And as far as the kidnapping went, there were several cases in which the kidnapper was freed because the captive _wanted _it.

Frank had studied those outcomes and tried to apply the similarities to his own situation. So far, he could (if someone was willing enough to represent the case for him) get Gerard off the hook for the kidnapping. It would be semi-hard to prove, but it had been done before and that was hope enough for Frank.

The molestation charges would be a bit more difficult to prove though. That was more of a 'he said she said' case. How on Earth could he prove Gerard had nothing to do with it, since now the default was that Gerard _had _molested him? Just as there was no way to truly prove Gerard had molested him, it would be even harder to un-prove it once everyone already believed he had. Frank had been such a secretive child, and he couldn't blame people if they could suspect him having run off with (and being molested by) Gerard when he was younger and not saying anything. He would have, most certainly…and unfortunately.

As for the murder, Frank had to learn as much as he could about it before he could guess. But as far as he was concerned, there was not much he could do when it came to Gerard's case, like he'd previously thought. At first glance, it seemed that the police had no true case against Gerard. But when he searched his mind back to the happier times (as well as the court case) he realized some things that could have been said that would incriminate Gerard if Pete and his family kept up with the lie they were telling everyone. He'd heard that Gerard had apparently left a voicemail message on Mikey's answering machine that sounded shady. The only part he'd heard from the news shows was that Gerard had said, "Hey Mikes. Have I got a surprise for you" before the message cut. Although Frank was 100% positive that Gerard had no ill-intentions with that recording, it was pretty damning. And it didn't help that the last voicemail occurred that same day; detectives and lawyers claimed it was done just to create false alibi.

Frank shook his head as he acknowledged just how messily he'd arranged everything, and how pathetic it was that he was essentially restarting the case three years later. He shouldn't have given up the second and third years. No matter what his excuses might have been or how sugarcoated the lies were, the fact was that he'd cut off all connection with Gerard. Frank surely didn't deserve Gerard now, but he was still obligated to do something about the situation, and he was going to do something about it in a matter of moments. Tonight, Pete would see a side of Frank he'd wish to never see.

A crack of lightening shook Frank from his thoughts, and he wiped his bangs from his eyes before he opened the front door. Unlike he suspected, the place seemed…different. He knew going off to college may throw him off a bit, but he still expected the house/business to look the same. Instead, he met an eerie emptiness.

Frank shivered as the droplets on his skin dripped down to the floor, and he cursed himself for standing under the rain like an idiot. Maybe the water might have helped him do whatever it was he'd planned to do, but it didn't look like it'd happen if no one was home. Angrily, Frank rested his head against the wall. The one time he built up enough gutso to follow through and make Pete pay for ruining his and Gerard's life, no one was home. Fucking great, wasn't it?

With a fire burning in the pit of his stomach and an adrenaline rush to match, Frank tip-toed around the house for signs of any life at all. The only sound he could hear was that of the grandfather clock in the reception area. That, in itself, was an oddity. There was always chatter of some sort, and never had Frank heard the ticking of the clock ring throughout the house. Frank would be lying if he said it didn't creep him the fuck out, but this was good.

A light bulb went off in Frank's head as he remembered his suitcase was outside and he ran to get it. He didn't want Pete to know he was home before anything actually got around to happening. Just as he headed out, he made out the image of what seemed to be a young couple making their way down the sidewalk under an umbrella. Frank debated whether or not to quickly head back inside, but decided against it when he realized how having witnesses would go in his favor. And so instead of hiding, he waved at them and smiled. The couple caught sight of him and smiled in response, and the boy in the hoodie seemed to look confused. Nonetheless, Frank gave them ample time to record the image of him waving and standing outside on the front porch before he headed inside with his suitcase and closed the door.

Behind the door, he let his head rest as he waited. Pete was going to come soon, if not in the next five minutes. Frank knew Pete, and made sure to tell everyone he was coming home today, including the tabloids. Frank was extra sure to put it in the tabloids that Pete was known to read, and he'd even texted him with a little ';-)' followed after.

Now that he thought about it, there wasn't much for him to be nervous about. He'd planned this out well. He was only sorry he'd waited so long.

The sound of keys jingling brought Frank back to the 'here and now,' and he excitedly bit his lip as a cold drift swept through the room. Goosebumps littered his skin, but he was burning with excitement as Pete's shadow fell across him.

* * *

  
"You ready?" Sara asked Pete, before he timidly nodded.

Sara could see how nervous Pete was, and so she took his hand and rubbed it to unnerve him. He gave her a faded smile and gulped once more as they neared the Iero household, protecting her from the rain with his umbrella. Someone was home indeed; the items on the porch had been moved, and if he could force himself, Pete could see the outline of a body inside the home.

"Frank's home, I guess," he murmured. "He texted me and said he'd be home soon."

Sara nodded and urged him to go forward. As if a sign from above, Frank stepped outside just then and caught sight of the two nearing the house. Instead of throwing them glares as he usually did, he waved eagerly, stood smiling for a good minute or two, and then retreated inside the house. It seemed like he too had just gotten home, as he looked wet and drenched from the rainy weather.

"You see?" Sara asked, rubbing Pete's shoulder as a confused look adjourned his features. "Frank looks happy to see us!"

"That…that couldn't have been Frank," Pete reasoned, his steps toward the house slowing. "Frank hates me, remember? Only does all that stuff in front of the camera, Sara. But you've seen what happens once the cameras are gone."

"But there are no cameras for miles, Pete," Sara tried to console him. "And it's not like Frank didn't know who he was waving to, or else he wouldn't have waved. He misses you, Petey." Pete thought about it for a minute before he finally continued walking, with the help of Sara's insistent tug.

"Don't worry," she kept reassuring him, smiling. "Things will be all right."

Pete gave a numb nod as they progressed toward the house. It's not like he planned to do anything today. He was intent on simply creating small talk with Frank. Hopefully, enough small talk would lead Frank to become more open with him…at least, that was what Sara had hinted.

A bolt of lightning struck after her statement and the door to the Iero household creaked open as the two stepped inside. Behind the door was Frank, as stunning as ever in his wet clothing. The young man looked up from his belongings and gave a small smile.

If it was even possible, Frank looked even more appealing than he did before he left for college…that was, if you asked Pete. He felt the urge to trap Frank against the wall, drug him, and use him like he used to; but with Sara's close watch on him he felt restricted. He'd done a good job for 3 whole fucking years. That was tough. But Sara had insisted that he had to wait for Frank to 'come around,' and he didn't want to throw away years of hard work.

Silence soon filled the three of them, and Frank seemed stare at Pete. Sara noticed the unfamiliar gaze Frank was giving Pete, and her eyes wandered from Pete back to Frank. She hoped everything went smoothly. She knew how badly Pete handled rejection, and she didn't need any more people dying because of it.

After a log moment of silent stares, Pete broke the silence and offered a quiet, "hey."

Surprisingly, Frank replied in a promising manner as he nodded in approval and let out a "hi," of his own.

The two continued staring at each other before Sara cleared her throat, hoping to land Pete one. Frank's eyes drifted to her before he finally asked if they would like to come in. Of course the question was rhetorical; they were already inside.

"You guys must be cold," Frank said, suddenly springing into action after he patted his suitcase and grabbed the coats off their backs. "Come sit. I just got in here."

"Thanks Frank," Sara said, grinning at Pete who also seemed to calm down and relax. "But I think I should be leaving soon anyways."

"So…you guys aren't staying?" Frank asked, his face falling.

"I don't mind staying," Pete eagerly piped up, throwing a hopeful look in Frank's direction.

"Yeah, and I really have to get going," Sara continued. "I was just making sure Petey wasn't going to get lost on his way over here," she joked. Frank didn't laugh at her lame attempt at a joke, but instead put on a confused look.

"So you two are a couple?"

"No!" Pete affirmed. "She's just here, we aren't anything! I mean, uh…no. We're not together, Frank." Pete shook his head at how stupid he sounded as he vehemently denied Sara, but he wanted to make sure Frank knew where he stood. He'd done a lot of soul searching with Sara for the past couple of years, and what he felt for Frank was more than a fling. While it was more than a fling, it wasn't love. Love was what it could have and would have progressed into had Gerard not intervened, but since he had, that's where Pete was right now. So you could see why he couldn't risk their meet-up being screwed over because of a misconception. No, he and Sara were not an item.

Frank sighed in approval before leading Pete to the couch, where he started rubbing his shoulder affectionately. "I have you all to myself then?" he whispered, and Pete sat there dumbfounded. Maybe those years of sitting back and letting Frank cool had paid off. Frank seemed happy to be around him. He seemed pleased at the thought of them hanging around each other for the rest of the night as well. Pete wasn't sure if he should continue staring in awe or if he should take advantage of the situation, whatever it was. But instead, Pete sat back. If sitting back was what got Frank crawling back to him, he was going to do nothing provoking at all and hopefully land elsewhere with Frank.

Frank seemed pleased as he bit his lip, searching Pete's eyes boldly. The last time Frank had ever been so careless with his emotions was back when they first met. Besides that, Pete only had the honors when Frank was piss drunk. A part of Pete missed that, but he pushed it aside as he recalled that more times would be to come if he played his cards right.

Sara could sense the air in the atmosphere changing so she picked up her purse and stood. "Well, I'm going to head back to our place," she murmured, excusing herself. Immediately, Frank stood and offered to walk her to the door, but she declined.

"You two just get back to whatever you were doing," she demanded, winking. "And Petey, I expect to hear good news." With that, the front door was closed within seconds and the two boys were left alone.

Pete took another look at Frank through the dimly lit lights and inched himself away from the Iero kid. Ever since Frank had been brought back from Gerard's captivity, situations with the two of them alone never ended well (mostly because they never got the chance to even start).

But tonight, there was something different. Pete could sense it as he attempted to get away from Frank's grasp and Frank pulled him back.

"Stay Pete," Frank murmured, and Pete couldn't decide whether or not Frank was mocking Sara and her use of the nickname. But Frank didn't give much time for Pete to ponder over it, as he hopped over the couch and landed on the seat next to Pete. Unsatisfied, he situated himself on Pete, straddling his legs on the couch. Their eyes searched each other before Frank broke the silence.

"You two live together?" Frank finally asked, looking away. The hint of jealousy in his voice was unmistakable, and Pete's heart skipped a beat as he thought about the emotional roller-coaster his own mind went on while Frank was with Gerard. Maybe there was some truth to his lies after all, and maybe those feelings weren't so one-sided.

Pete gave a little shrug instead, scared of messing up the wonderful chemistry they had going. Apparently that was the wrong answer, because he could feel Frank tense up. "So you two are a couple," Frank dryly concluded, slumping against Pete's body. "Figures," he muttered.

"What makes you say that?" Pete asked, his other hand lowering to secure a hold around Frank. Frank fit perfectly, as Pete already knew he would. Frank didn't resist and instead, relaxed into the hold as he started to accuse Pete of being…well, of being Pete-ish.

"She fucking looks at you like you're some sick puppy," Frank said, scrunching his face in disgust. "And your name's Pete, not 'Petey.'"

"You called me 'Petey.' At least, you _used _to," Pete pointed out, smirking. "Is someone jealous? I wonder…"

Frank glared at Pete as he made a suggestion. "I might've called you Petey, but that was because I lo—" Frank couldn't bring himself to say what he needed to say, but it was too late because he'd already caught Pete's attention.

"Because you what?" Pete demanded, suddenly growing serious. He was proud of how far he'd come. The whole time alone with Frank, he hadn't made some cruel remark/statement, hadn't advanced on him in anyway, and even seemed to enjoy Frank's petty/childish concerns. He had no thoughts of abusing Frank because, quite honestly, none had entered his mind.

But after hearing Frank possibly utter that specific word, his heart froze. Now, either Frank meant this and was scared shitless to admit it, or he was just fucking with him. Everything screamed the second option, and Pete badly wanted to beat the shit out of Frank for thinking he could get away with toying with his emotions. Just because he was being civil with Frank didn't mean Frank could try to fuck him over.

Though Pete was on his guard, it was quite obvious that Frank was more of the first option: scared shitless. He had started biting his lip in worry, looking anywhere but at Pete's face. Pete needed an answer, though. He needed to know whether or not to take his hands and ball them into fists against Frank's face, or if he should use those hands of his already cradling Frank's cheek and waist and carry him upstairs into his room and fuck him like he had permission to.

"Frank…" Pete warned one final time, and the tone made Frank cringe as he thought about what had usually followed such a tone years ago. Frank gave a frustrated groan as he felt himself chickening out, and Pete held him tighter.

"You'd better not be fucking with me Frank," Pete snarled, gripping Frank by his hair as he twisted him around and used his other hand around Frank's neck. "Or else you'll be saying 'hi' to Mikey, you fucker," he whispered.

Pete threw Frank off of him and Frank landed against the table, a crack marking the glass and the magazines falling to the floor. Frank tumbled on the ground with them, and looked up helplessly at Pete as Pete repeated his warning. Frank stared back in awe as he felt the area where his head was throbbing with his fingers. When he brought them back, they were dripping with red.

"Does it look like I'm fucking kidding?" Frank yelled at Pete as blood dripped from his head. "You win, okay? You win, Petey."

Pete stood his ground, as Frank remained on it, and raised a brow. "What the fuck happened to you in college?" he asked, now genuinely interested. Frank seemed to have changed completely.

"I…" Frank didn't want to say it, couldn't believe that he _would _be saying it, and bit his lip when he knew it was the only way things would go down. "I missed you."

"Bullshit," Pete spat, his heart racing. "You-you didn't seem to miss me while you were off with Arthur! I mean Gerard, dipshit," he clarified as Frank questioned him.

"I did!" Frank insisted. "I thought of you every fucking day, Petey!"

"Stop fucking with me," Pete warned, shaking his head as he gripped his hair from the roots. Frank had called him 'Petey' again. "I mean it, Frank. Stop."

"What the hell happened to _you _for 3 years, huh?" Frank snapped back. "You haven't been acting like yourself either."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Pete asked. "I left you alone because you wouldn't stop moping around about Gerard! Gerard this, or Gerard that, and 'I hate you all.' What the fuck did you want me to do?" Pete yelled, shoving Frank against the ground again in anger and topping it off with a kick. "What did you fucking want from me?" he asked in desperation.

Frank remained on the ground with the blood dripping on his slightly bruised face from the kick he just received from Pete, alongside his tears. Frank gave a small gulp before he admitted his secret, something Pete was sure was a hell of a lot hard to admit. And after Frank spoke what was truly on his mind, Pete couldn't help but smile, because right then and there he realized that Frank was always his.

"Why haven't you touched me yet?" Frank asked quietly, wiping away the trail of blood and tears that ran down to his face. It stained his cheeks as a red smudge was left in its place, but it blended nicely with the purple mark he was sporting from that last kick.

"Come again?" Pete asked, shaking his head. He was playing dumb, but on the inside he was grinning like a madman. "Why haven't I _touched _you?"

Frank fell for the bait and nodded sadly. His composure fell when he started getting on the offensive, though. "It's because of Tina, isn't it?" Frank asked. "That stupid bitch—"

"If you haven't noticed, I have no fucking clue where she is. I don't care either," Pete told Frank. "I kicked her out and got her replaced. Maybe you would have noticed if you ever ventured out your room, you dweeb. That's what Sara's here for."

"You kicked her out?" Frank asked, and Pete could see the blood rushing to Frank's cheeks as he blushed.

"Yeah," Pete said, crouching on the ground next to Frank as he continued to explain himself. Frank shuddered on instinct and tried to protect himself as he raised his hands to his face, but he put his hands down once Pete shook his head, signaling that wasn't what he was there for.

"I mean, I'm no idiot; I know how you feel about her and, taking how I feel about you into consideration, I ditched her over at Mario's the days leading up to when you came back." Slowly, Pete could feel it all coming back, and he lifted a hand to gently caress Frank's cheek. Frank leaned in to the hand and Pete's heart rate sped up. Frank had to be faking it. There was no way he could keep up with this act for so long.

But as the seconds passed, Pete began to rethink everything. Frank licked his lips and in the process, the tip of Frank's tongue tasted the salt on Pete's hands. Pete's breath got caught in his throat and his attention was put on Frank as Frank innocently asked, "And just how _do _you feel about me?"

"The same way you feel about me," Pete replied tersely, but Frank shook his head.

"Fuck that," he snapped, sounding jealous. "If it isn't Tina, then it's the other bitch you who brought here tonight. You were gonna fuck her, weren't you?"

"Well it's none of your fucking business what I do with anyone," Pete defended himself. "With all of your 'touch me and die' attitude, I wanted and was advised to stay away. And if I'm not getting it from you, I'll get it from someone else…" Pete was going to add 'kind of like what Gerard's doing right now,' but he decided against it. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Pete had changed at least a little bit.

"Pete, I want you back," Frank admitted, looking down-right guilty.

"Why?" Pete asked. It was too much of a good deal to be trusted, no matter how much he reveled in being wanted by Frank.

Frank sighed as he actually took a breath and analyzed the situation. It looked like he wasn't going to have any dignity left after this: he was pretty sure Pete was going to make him beg. "I just really missed you was all."

"Frank, you've had three years to do something about it—"

"Don't you fucking get it, Pete?" Frank asked, using Pete's own swift tactics against him as he came up with a reason right then and there. "I don't care about…" he opened his mouth to say Gerard's name but he fell short as he felt butterflies in his lower stomach.

"I mean, maybe I was trying to convince myself that I love Gerard…that I adore him, miss him, want him, need him in order to be truly happy…" Frank paused when he realized he was about to go on ranting about how much he loved Gerard when he should have been saying otherwise. And, the look on Pete's face was something scary. It would be smart for him to prove his point and move along.

"But I don't," Frank said, shaking his head. Carefully, he chose his words. "Right now, I want you."

"And what makes you think I'll believe any shit you have to say?" Pete asked.

"Think about it," Frank said. "Okay, maybe I spent the first year locked up in my room bitter as hell and bent on setting Gerard free. But what did I do the second year or, realistically, as soon as Gerard was locked up?" When Pete didn't answer, Frank answered for him.

"We went to interviews. I went with you by my side the whole time. Why the fuck did you think I wanted interviews so much?" Frank asked him. "Because in the public, you could hold me and everything would be okay."

"But then when things were private between us you would threaten to—"

"I didn't mean it Petey!" Frank shouted. "I never fucking mean it! You were supposed to be yourself and disregard how I seemed to feel or what I said. You were supposed to throw the laptop from my hands and out the window. You were supposed to slam the door shut and lock it behind you. You were supposed to slap me if I ever started threatening you and use duct tape if I couldn't shut my damn mouth. You were supposed to throw me onto the floor and fuck me!" There was a moment of silence as Frank's words sunk in.

"What's wrong with you?" Pete finally asked, confused. "Are you telling me you wanted me to treat you how I treated you before you ran away?" He crossed his arms as he tensed, and Frank knew that if he said the wrong thing, he could end up badly hurt.

"That doesn't make sense," Pete continued. "You ran away because of that. Why would you want me to…?"

"I did all that stuff running away with Gerard and shit because I wanted attention," Frank said, shaking his head as he remembered some of the reasons that people came up with. "You know how I am, Pete. As for college, I don't know why I actually left. But I've always wanted to be with you, despite what it looks like."

"So you like it when I do those things to you?" Pete repeated, smirking as his arm-fold fell apart. He ran his hands through Frank's wicked hair-cut (he'd kept it the same style since Gerard last cut it, but hey, the style was fitting, so Pete didn't mind). Gently, he raised Frank's face by his chin. "Talk to me," he threateningly demanded, licking his canines.

"I made Gerard fuck me the way he did because it reminded me of you." Frank murmured the first words he thought Pete would love to hear as he felt Pete stroking his neck.

"But why all of this?" Pete asked. "Why not just tell me you were into it? And if you couldn't tell me, why not just stay? Why'd you go with him?"

"I hated Tina, and she was always around," Frank whined, hoping to sound more like his old self. "I thought I could get back at you if I slept with Gerard. That way you'd pay attention to me, and I could pick up new tricks that _maybe _you'd like."

Pete felt a tug at his heart as he heard what Frank's true intentions were, and for a moment he felt like they had travelled back in time to when Frank had first given himself up to Pete. That was the last time Frank had ever gone to such lengths to try and make Pete happy or pleased. It was touching to see that the innocent and naive little 15 year old boy Pete had molested was still somewhere in this 21 year old.

"Was it worth it?" Pete asked, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Frank's neck as he slid from the glass table. He licked his shirt and began cleaning the dried blood from Frank's face. "Was _Mikey _worth it?"

Frank wanted to throw up when he heard that, but he knew that in order to stay in the game he had to laugh at it, come up with a better and viler response if he could. Taking a deep breath to hide his self-assuring nod to himself, Frank cockily grinned.

"Petey, Mikey isn't even worth five cents."

"Really?" Pete asked, chuckling as he lay Frank down on the ground. Frank's heartbeat quickened as things seemed to be getting heated and he sat up as soon as room allowed.

"Really," Frank said, pushing his conscious aside as it begged for him to stand up, leave, and pretend like this never happened. But he couldn't. If he didn't give Pete his payback now, when would he? After clearing his throat and setting up his mind, Frank continued. "I needed him to make my point, and I always get what I want," he added with a hint of snobbish air. He wanted to shudder, but Pete's secure hold on him prevented him from such an action.

"Wow," Pete murmured, smiling as he was won over by Frank's actions. He slowly pushed Frank back down as he straddled him. He was already growing thick and heavy with Frank willingly under him, squirming. "I never knew you felt this way," he continued, licking his lips as he began grinding against Frank.

Frank's breath hitched in his throat and he closed his eyes as he felt himself react to Pete's movement. Frank wasn't at all comfortable with the thought of letting Pete take advantage of him, but he had to get Pete's guard low enough so he could fuck him up for messing with him, Mikey, and most importantly Gerard. Frank was going to make the fucker cry. That was guaranteed. But for the moment, he was giving himself to Pete.

Frank groaned as he turned his head to the side, and Pete began kissing on the side of Frank's neck. Frank's slow relaxed breaths immediately began shortening, and the heat flushed his cheeks to a nice rosy color. He didn't expect handing himself over to feel this good, and mentally scolded himself. He had to stay on task.

_ What better way to gain Pete's trust than to keep allowing him to 'please' you?_ Frank caught himself falling victim to his body's desires. After all, he hadn't done anything for the past 3 years, which was a bit much for someone like Frank. And the voice was right. If he let Pete take things far enough as to actually kiss him and maybe fuck him, Pete's guard would be down indefinitely, thinking Frank had gone back to his old and malleable ways. Frank's only problem was that he wasn't faking the moans leaving his lips.

No one needs to know, it assured him as Pete roughly lifted his head from the floor. Frank felt himself widening his legs as Pete's lips harshly crashed against his own, and he gasped as he felt Pete fondle his member through the clothing he had on. Frank didn't care if it would seem like he faked everything in the end; it felt wrong knowing that the groans were genuine.

_ Gerard's in jail fucking guys left and right,_ it argued as Frank found himself wrapping his arm around Pete. You deserve some fun.

Frank would have tried to come up with a comeback, but Pete's tongue prevented any mental progress. It had been so long since Frank kissed anyone, and he hungered for the taste of another person. The need was so strong; the smell of weed and cigarettes wasn't enough to deter him. In fact, it helped him succumb to the madness that was his 'plan for revenge.'

Pete hastily lifted Frank and carried him up the stairs into Frank's bedroom, where he lay Frank on the floor. After a good couple of seconds devouring each other's faces, the kiss ended as abruptly as it had started and Pete held Frank against the floor. Frank remained underneath Pete as he felt Pete make a wet trail from his chin to his ear, panting.

Once Pete reached Frank's ear, he licked his lips. "It's time to see if you meant any of that shit you were saying two seconds ago," Pete demanded, lifting an arm. The impact of Pete's hand against Frank's cheek was gratifying, and Frank found himself growling as he pulled Pete closer with a passion he hadn't felt in so long.

"More," Frank gasped, his chest heaving. His cock was throbbing from lack of attention, and his head was clouded with lust. Pete hastily ripped clothes off of Frank in response, and Frank gulped as he felt himself actually get aroused by the manhandling of his body. It wasn't long before Pete had him completely stripped and demanded that Frank get on his knees. Frank willingly complied, and it scared him how eager he had become. If he wasn't careful, he'd be playing right into Pete's hand instead of luring Pete to fall for his plan.

"Less talk, more action," Pete demanded, slapping Frank's bare ass after he removed his own clothing. Gently, he ran his hands through Frank's hair. "You've been saying how much you need me, Frankie. Now, now I want you to show me how much you need me." At the mention of 'show' Pete violently yanked Frank's head back before releasing him. Frank lustfully looked up at Pete as his dick twitched, itching for Pete to hurt him again. His wish was granted as Pete stepped up and held Frank's head with both of his hands, slapping each cheek at least twice as he guided in cock into Frank's mouth.

"You know what to do, bitch," Pete grunted, yanking Frank by his hair. Frank felt a moan threatening to erupt from his throat as he accommodated for Pete's member and he tried to cover it up. Pete was un-amused and pulled Frank away.

"Beg for it," Pete instructed, quickly fumbling in his pocket for a switchblade. Sure, Frank's mouth was nice and warm, but Frank had said he 'needed' him. Pete wasn't convinced with Frank's performance, not in the slightest. Maybe his little pocketknife would open the horny little bastard up; at least, that's what Pete was hoping for as he searched for the weapon.

When Pete finally found it, he flipped it and raised it against Frank's cheek. Frank's eyes widened as the tip of the blade danced along his skin, and he grew harder as Pete forcefully rubbed his cock on his face. Frank panted, eyes dimming as he opened his mouth to have Pete back inside. Pete pulled him away again and menacingly waved the blade in Frank's face instead.

"I. Don't. Hear. You."

Frank whined in frustration and tried to calm himself down. This wasn't right yet it was no secret his body enjoyed it, and he almost cursed at how helpless he was against the burning sensation. His body knew what was going to come after he went ahead and sucked on Pete's penis, and shamefully he wanted it.

"I want your cock in my mouth," Frank let himself moan. He stuck out his tongue as a wave of pleasure rippled through his body. Pete chuckled as he pulled Frank's head back yet again, teasing him. Frank was practically drooling and became impatient. "Give it to me, Petey," he growled. "I need it."

"You sound like someone who wants to go straight to fucking," Pete taunted Frank as he lay against the bed with legs wide open. Slowly, he lured Frank over beside him and Frank crawled over.

"Maybe I do," Frank murmured, lifting his eyes to meet Pete as he gently placed kisses along Pete's manhood. It took nearly every ounce of will power he had left to keep from sucking on it, but he managed. Pete gave a confused look at Frank's response, and he lifted Frank's chin up so he could clearly look into his eyes.

"Are you bullshitting me?" he asked. Frank shook his head, licking his lips as Pete caught his breath. He didn't believe Frank for a second. There was definitely something up. There was no way Frank had suddenly forgiven him and wanted to fuck. No way; there had to have been something involved. He tightly gripped the knife as Frank shook his head. An idea then came to Pete's head as he struggled to find a way to test Frank's devotion to him. Flashback moments from past conversations with Gerard came to Pete's mind, and he smirked as he delved his tongue into Frank's open mouth.

"Are you sure you want me?" Pete murmured, hand still on the knife behind his back. Frank nodded eagerly, touching himself as he started sucking on the insides of Pete's thighs. He was aware of the knife in Pete's hands, but decided not to make a scene out of it. He had to win Pete's trust, and if ignoring the knife would do it, he had to ignore it.

"You have no idea how much I want you," Frank murmured, groaning as he felt Pete push him off. Pete leveled Frank's face to meet his and he stared him deeply in the eyes before he continued.

"Then ride me."

Frank's eyes widened as he thought of the possibilities, and he shamefully blushed. He shouldn't have been excited for the offer, but he'd already shown unmistakable interest, the kind Pete was looking for. Smugly, Pete lay down as Frank fought with himself.

"I'm not forcing you Frank. At least, not yet," Pete chuckled, stroking himself. He then displayed the knife in his hand and let go of it in plain sight.

"That can change, though," Pete whispered as Frank bit his lip. "Now fucking get up here, you cunt."

Frank's dick twitched as his conscious pleaded with him not to. He knew the significance of what he was about to agree to; it was the one thing he'd refused to do with Pete, which was the very reason why it was an important milestone reached when he'd done so to Gerard.

However the silent pleas were pointless, because as Pete lay on the bed and pulled Frank on top of him, Frank found it nearly impossible to back away from such a promising encounter. Pre-cum was already leaking just thinking about his last experience. He couldn't help it. Plus, Pete seemed to be gentle with Frank at the beginning, with his hands gently placed on Frank's hips as Frank found himself nearing contact with Pete's cock. Slowly, the tip prodded at Frank's entrance and Frank threw caution to the wind as he allowed Pete to enter him.

This wasn't anything like how times used to be with Gerard. Instead of letting Frank have a grace period to get adjusted, Pete thrust in him hard. Frank yelled in pain as he threw his head back and grasped at Pete's sides. Frank could have sworn what a mistake it was to let Pete fuck him about three thrusts in, but it wasn't long before he began moaning in delirium, fucking himself on Pete without the assistance of Pete's hands.

"I better fucking hear you," Pete demanded, nodding over to where he'd put the knife. Frank moaned in agreement and Pete smirked at how lucky he was. In the end, everything worked out. It might have taken him a couple of years, but Frank was now on his dick. It was so worth it.

"I want more," Frank moaned, grinding against Pete.

"What is it you want?" Pete asked, taunting Frank as he fought for control. Eventually, he let his head relax against the pillow as Frank bounced on top of him. There was something extremely attractive about Frank fucking himself on him.

"I want it in me!" Frank begged, rolling his eyes. He threw himself against Pete's firm cock, hoping that it would impact him in some for the way that Gerard's had. Gerard was a bit fuller in that aspect, but Pete wasn't too bad on his own. Frank groaned in pleasure as he set a fast-paced rhythm with the bed and the wall, and Pete growled in approval.

"Then bounce harder, you fucking whore."

"_Ohhhh_, yes!"

"How much do you want it?" Pete asked, grunting in pleasure. He gripped Frank's own cock and began running his hand along the shaft. Frank threw his head back and growled. He was so close to cumming. He didn't want to, because he knew that as soon as he did let out his release, he'd come back to his senses. This felt too good to stop. He tried to say something to Pete but he couldn't manage to get a coherent message across.

Pete smirked and demanded Frank sit upright against him as he brought his legs off the edge of the bed to better accommodate for Frank's rigorous bouncing. Frank's bounces became more defined as he got a better hold and more control, and Pete couldn't even keep himself from moaning. He was surprised he'd lasted this long without making noise while he had Frank on his member making enough noise for the two of them.

"Use me," Frank moaned deliriously. "Deeper, baby _please_!"

Pete had never heard that nick-name from Frank, so it threw him off guard. But as soon as the message registered he complied. Frank grunted in pleasure and closed his eyes as he let the feeling consume his soul and mind. He'd get to avenging Gerard, but right now he needed to be fucked.

"Choke me," Frank gasped, and Pete did so. Frank's pace quickened and his grunts became squeals. Pete moaned at the beautiful sound before his hold around Frank's neck got tighter. Here Frank finally was, doing things he never actually expected to happen. Frank's voice was music to his ears, as were the slaps of their skin.

"Your ass is so beautiful," Pete murmured before he could catch himself. But Frank was too gone to notice as he replied with a barely audible, 'fuck me.'

Frank was beautiful to see with his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. His eyes shut closed with his mouth agape, drooling from lack of control. Pete's movements became harsh and unpredictable, giving Frank jolting waves of pleasure as Pete growled. Pete pounded into him harshly until he couldn't take it anymore and needed to be in control.

Frank screamed as Pete abruptly threw him off and hit the floor. He got up, flustered as he remained on all fours catching his breath and Pete chuckled as he stood, demanding Frank to look up at him.

"I'm not done with you yet," Pete murmured, smirking. Swiftly, Pete began to insert his fingers into Frank's hole. His eyes widened in anticipation as he began pumping himself.

"More," Frank gasped, sweat dripping from his forehead. As he shamelessly slammed back into Pete's hand, Pete balled his hands into fists. Quickly, Pete used his other hand to choke Frank, but he didn't last long as he struggled to loosen up Frank's asshole. Eventually, though, Pete's fist went in all the way, leaving Frank utterly speechless. It wasn't until Pete began pummeling him with quick and brutish punches that Frank grunted in utter bliss. Frank's cries became louder as Pete used an arm around Frank's lower waist to secure his hold as he fisted Frank.

"Don't stop!" Frank begged, arching his back as he shut his eyes. "Fist harder, Petey!"

Again with the nick-names! That one especially touched him; it was the one Frank had used when he'd trusted Pete with all his heart six years ago.

Pete kept up with his prior fast-paced rhythm, and it wasn't long before Frank began moving erratically against Pete's fist. Pete kept brushing against his prostate, and it became apparent to Frank that Pete knew exactly where it was as Pete built Frank up to his climax. Frank's eyes were glued open as he repeatedly fucked his prostate, and soon enough he could take it no longer.

"Cum you fucking cunt," Pete demanded, slapping Frank's ass with his free hand.

With a blissful grunt, Frank came. He gasped, trying to catch his breath as he listlessly crawled over to the edge of the bed. Pete was in the same state of shock, sitting cross-legged in the center of the floor with his hard-on.

Frank had just willingly given himself up and seemed to actually enjoy it. Pete couldn't believe his luck. He made a mental note to thank Sara for her help. She knew what she was doing.

Frank, while replaying the actions that just occurred, was deep in thought for other reasons as he rested on the edge of the bed. He'd never felt more dirty. All those other times he'd slept with Pete he'd never actually felt anything. Sure, he felt 'used' back then. But now that he knew how it felt and _allowed _himself to moan gloriously at the feel of Pete's cock deep in him, he truly felt and _was _dirty.

Fortunately for Frank, Pete broke the silence and kept him from his thoughts. "My _fuck_, Frank. That was…"

Shamefully, Frank looked at him before lowering his gaze and the rest of his body to the ground. "I…I liked it," he honestly stated aloud, in shock.

"The fuck you did," Pete said, smirking. "Like…wow." Pete let himself rest against the desk and began pumping himself again. He let his head fall back as he widened his legs. Through his lashes, Pete gazed at the boy in front of him and grinned.

Feebly, Frank repeated what he'd said earlier, eyes wider this time. "I liked it." Pete licked his lips. Frank blinked a couple of times before he felt his conscious frown upon his statement. He was Gerard's. Why and how on Earth could he say that Pete was any good?

Just like that, his original intentions came to mind and the glimmer of the knife caught his eye. "Holy shit," Frank murmured aloud. He shook his head as the realization hit him and attempted to rise. "I can't believe…We just—"

"We just fucked, Frankie-baby," Pete interrupted him, smirking as he neared Frank. "And we're about to do it again."

Frank froze as he felt Pete's lips make contact with his neckline, and numbly, his hands found their way to Pete's cock as he turned around to accommodate. The sight and feel of Pete's cock made something in Frank twitch and he closed his eyes, shaking his head as he began to pump Pete. Pete refused to have Frank's thoughts get in the way of what his body obviously wanted. A troubled look came across Frank's face and Pete dove in for a kiss.

The kiss wasn't full of blissful intentions, which caught Frank off guard. He found himself tilting his head to the side as the kiss got deeper and Pete's tongue strokes got more defined. Frank broke off to catch his breath, but immediately after Pete gently held Frank's chin and continued the kiss. Frank hadn't actively participated, but as soon as emotions got the better of him, Pete's kiss held more passion than Frank had ever experienced with him before. Frank broke off this time and gasped as Pete stared deeply at him, parting the hair from Frank's face.

"Relax Frankie," he murmured, stroking Frank's cheek. Frank's eyes remained wide as Pete continued to affectionately touch him. If Frank wasn't mistaken, there was something more to the kiss. Or maybe he'd just gotten caught up in the moment. Though that didn't explain the way Pete was caressing him now…

Under normal circumstances, Pete would have taken Frank's shocked look to mean something else. But today, at that very moment, he understood why Frank might have been a bit freaked out. It was the kiss they shared; he'd put too much of his hidden emotions into there. Maybe he _shouldn't_ have blindly followed Sara's suggestions.

"It's just me and you," he continued, rubbing Frank's cheek with his thumb now. "The way it was always supposed to be."

Frank's heart started rapidly beating as Pete uttered words he'd do anything to hear 6 years ago, but he wasn't sure why. That was years ago, and he didn't feel anything for Pete now, so why did it matter?

"Frank, it's so hard for me to say, but I think I went about everything to wrong way before," Pete admitted, and Frank was shocked at just how much he'd made Pete's defenses fall. It was touching, but he had to stay on task. No matter what sweet thing Pete had to say now wasn't good enough. It wasn't good enough if by the end of the day Mikey was still dead and Gerard was in jail.

But Pete kept talking, which wasn't something Frank hadn't prepared for. Gently, Pete moved in to kiss Frank's nose, but Frank moved away, confused.

"P-Pete? I don't understand." Frank pulled away slightly, contemplating whether or not he should continue with his planned activity. He'd counted on the fact that Pete was going to be ruthless and unforgiving, but now that Pete wasn't proving to be just that…

"I found myself telling the truth, well half of it, to Irene when I was talking about you," Pete said, his heart beating as he made the final decision to let Frank know how he truly felt. Nothing had ever been this scary for Pete.

"You were talking about me to my mother?" Frank asked, his voice now dry and disappointed.

"It's not like that," Pete quickly explained. "This was while you were away with Gerard. You don't know how much that killed me, Frankie."

_ That's funny, because Mikey's the one that died_, Frank thought, but quickly bit his tongue as he remembered where he told Pete he stood on the matter. Instead, he let out a barely audible, "You were the one I wanted to be with."

Convinced he was doing the right thing, Pete grabbed Frank's hands and kissed them, which threw Frank even more off his center. "I told Irene the same thing! I mean, at the time I thought I was just coming up with lies to cover up my ass, but—"

"Pete, no." Frank turned away in hopes of blocking his ears but failed as Pete turned his head back.

"Frank, you need to hear this. You may hate Sara but she's so right. I went along everything the wrong fucking way. I liked you and reacted, thinking of you as 'another one of my clients,' but you're not! You're more than that to me, and I should have treated you like that. I swear, Frankie, you don't know how hard it's been for me to give you your space, hoping that this day would come. And now it has. It's so fucking perfect, Frank. You just…I would beg for your forgiveness but I know you couldn't give a rat's ass about Mikey or Gerard. People, myself included, do crazy things when they're in love."

Frank's eyes were glued open as he struggled for something to say, anything at all. But there was nothing to do but state the obvious. "You…you love me?" Frank croaked, and Pete blushed. Pete fucking blushed. Either this was a huge trick or Pete was being honest.

Pete nodded, grinning. "And it's funny that we both did crazy things for each other," he continued. "For someone so young, you already knew what you wanted. I was to slow to get it, but it was sinking in eventually. I just wished I realized the good thing I had before you decided to take matters into your own hands."

"We would have been a couple," Frank murmured, dazed at the change of heart in Pete. The scariest thing about that statement was that it was true. Had things gone along perfectly, and if Pete had pulled this play on him earlier on in the past, it would have been true.

"Well, we are one now," Pete said, grinning as Frank leaned against the wall for support. "And I'm one very lucky guy."

The two of them stared at each other for a moment before another long and passionate kiss was shared, led yet again by Pete. Heated moans were expressed as faces were gripped, sweat dripped, and true intentions initiated. Again, Frank's moans were as genuine as Pete's own; he couldn't help but to be touched with just how much Pete now trusted him with his actual emotions.

Frank had to be fair, though. He'd be a big liar if he didn't admit that Pete had trapped him in his own game. He hadn't been held or kissed like this in such a long time, and after hearing Pete admit things he would rather not have, he couldn't help but feel that maybe Pete was telling the truth. Maybe he did love him. How could he afford to kill him when he was here, willing to love and take care of him? He could do a whole lot for him now than Gerard could.

Pete broke off the kiss and smirked as he marked a trail from Frank's bare chest to his manhood, and Frank threw his head back as he shook.

"F-fuck," he stammered, and Pete chuckled against him, sending vibrations throughout Frank's body. If he was unsure before about Pete's position on everything, he was now sure Pete meant every ounce of it. He _couldn't_ kill Pete now.

Yes you can, the voice argued, and Frank groaned in frustration. Pete mistook the groan as intended for his performance and he sucked harder, making Frank's knees buckle. Frank ran his hands through Pete's hair as he moaned, cursing himself once again for feeling this. But he was annoyed at the voice. The same voice that convinced him to get himself in this predicament expected him to simply jump out of it. It wasn't that simple. He knew how Pete actually felt now.

_I'm sure Pete knew how Gerard felt about Mikey,_ the voice continued. _And what did he do to him?_

"Agh," Frank moaned, shaking his head. He shut his eyes tightly, his face in mixed contortion. Pete looked up to see Frank in pain and he sat back, worried. But Frank encouraged him to continue.

"I just can't believe today's actually happening," he murmured, and Pete smirked.

"Neither can I, baby," Pete said, smiling before he took Frank in again. Frank sucked in his breath as he began fighting with his conscious.

_ And Pete knew how you felt about Gerard too, _the voice said_. Maybe he's chosen to ignore it based on what you've said to him today, but he could hear the way you spoke to and about Gerard. No amount of acting could bring the same result. You and he know that._

Frank bit his lip as Pete deep-throated him and dug his nails into Pete's scalp. He couldn't. It wasn't right, despite what his actual conscious wanted to do.

_Why the hell are you fighting with me?_ it demanded angrily. Pete never has, and look; he's got everything he could possibly want. If you do the same, you could too.

Frank couldn't think straight as Pete's arms wrapped around his waist, his climax approaching as Pete hummed. It felt so fucking good; he couldn't hold in his moans. What the fuck was the voice talking about? This was what he wanted! He wanted to fucking cum in Pete's warm and wet mouth; he wanted to feel good.

_No, dipshit. You want Gerard!_

"Ah! Oh, GEE!" Frank yelled as he exploded in Pete's mouth. He could almost immediately sense the atmospheric change in the room after he called out Gerard's nick-name, but he quickly covered himself as he moaned again, "Oh jeez! Petey!"

Pete swallowed everything and grinned, continuing to stroke Frank as he stroked himself. Frank's eyes remained closed as he thought about what he was going to do, but there wasn't really much to think about.

_ Either you stay here and become Pete's fuck toy again, or you can do what you came to do and see Gerard again,_ it said. That's all it really came down to. And the choice, despite the appealing hard-on Pete was sporting, was clear.

After a few seconds of silence, Frank opened his crossed eyes. Pete might have been making him feel good now, but even then it was due to the things he felt when he was with Gerard. It was time to pay Pete back for everything. He'd reached the point he wanted, and if he was as loyal as he could possibly be up to this point, he had to make his move. Though Pete might have possibly loved Frank, he'd screwed with his mind so many times before. Who was to say he wasn't doing it now? What if he had an agenda of his own?

"Make love to me, Pete," Frank whispered, eyes wide as he gripped Pete's shoulders. If he got Pete to 'let his guard down' this much so far, he just had to hold on a little longer. Luckily enough for him, Pete nodded, grinning as he displayed his alert member.

"With pleasure," he said, smiling as he kissed Frank again. Frank took a deep breath: it was now or never.

With the glint of the pocket-knife catching the corner of his eye, Frank nodded toward the bed. Pete moaned and made his way to the mattress, holding Frank as he climbed on the bed and tried to lie down.

"Baby, wait!" Frank called, reaching for the blade before it made contact with Pete's back. Pete's smile became more genuine as he saw Frank grip the knife in his hand and away from his back. He remained under Frank as Frank went into the drawer to find something to use in order to tie Pete up. He grinned, licking his lips in anticipation as he felt the tightness of the knot Frank created to ensure that he couldn't move his hands.

As Frank backed away from Pete to 'set aside the blade,' he left a trail of kisses down to Pete's member and never actually put the blade away. Instead, he kept it concealed in his clenched fist. But Pete didn't seem to notice. With his chest heaving with excitement, Pete smiled down at Frank's head full of hair.

"That would have sucked if I got stabbed, huh?" Pete chuckled as Frank blew air over his dick. His breath hitched as his member finally entered Frank's warm confines, and he found himself moaning uncontrollably, encouraging Frank to continue. But after a few intense sucks, Frank pulled away and gave Pete a hand-job. Confused, Pete sat up half-way.

"What's wrong Frankie?" he asked, but Frank ignored him as he tried to get himself in the required mind-set needed to carry out the task. It wasn't that hard anymore, actually. He'd gotten his fix and could think straight.

He thought about all those nights of abuse with Pete and the nights of passion he had with Gerard that Pete took away, and he remembered what a master liar Pete was. Pete could say anything and was willing to say anything and act in any way to get what he wanted, just like how Mikey was dead and Gerard was now in jail. And soon, he was about to get Frank back to himself. Only difference was that in this case, Frank would be blind enough to simply hand himself over into a situation that once made him unhappy. Pete was, and remained, a manipulative bitch.

And just like that, he was ready to avenge Gerard.

Still feigning love for Pete, Frank timidly looked up as he murmured, "You're right, baby. It would have sucked if you'd gotten stabbed then."

Pete smiled at Frank's concern. How sweet. Sara was so right; he'd been blind. Had he acted this was with Frank from the get-go, Frank would have been his and this situation would have happened already. "Frankie, it's okay—"

"On the other hand, if you got stabbed now," Frank said, looking at Pete's eyes as he roughly drew his hand against Pete's dick, "I think that'd be okay."

Now fully concerned, Pete sat up. But it was too late: his fate was sealed the moment he agreed to 'make love' to Frank.

Frank, on the other hand, resumed sucking on Pete's cock as if he'd never uttered anything, and Pete relaxed again; though he was still tense, that didn't stop his cock from gaining excitement. And just as Frank found Pete's cock to be the perfect length, he'd quickly drawn out his other hand concealing the knife he'd 'saved' Pete from earlier. After one last suck, he gripped Pete's cock in preparation for his life-changing actions.

Before Pete could do anything, Frank brought the blade sharply against Pete's member, cutting deeply into his flesh. Blood spurted as Pete screamed in agony, kicking and thrashing. Yet the fierce kicks Frank took to the stomach weren't enough to keep him from his task of removing Pete's penis. In fact, the violent jerks helped him achieve his task. Swiftly, he got out of the way as the blood spurted in his face and he sat on Pete's chest as he continued to remove the vile appendage that had caused him, and many others, so much grief.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, FUCKER?" Pete yelled in pain, trying to force Frank off of him. Frank remained solid, however, and it wasn't until Pete's detached penis oozing blood resided in his hand that he actually looked Pete in the eye and spat at him.

"That's for messing with Gerard," Frank told him, calmly rising from the bed as he ran his bloody hands through his hair. Pete's eye twitched as he fought off the urge to become the madman he'd been with Frank before. He wanted to kill Frank, yet he was in no position to. Then again, this couldn't have really happened. He'd won Frank over, hadn't he? Frank loved him, he loved Frank. Maybe Frank simply put something down there to scare him.

For all he knew, maybe this was a trick. That…thing…in Frank's hand couldn't be his claim to fame. It had to have still been there. Shaking, Pete dared to look down between his legs and his heart froze as his eyes were met with the image of a large pool of blood surrounding the area that used to entail his penis.

Like an intense wave, the pain surged throughout his body.

"You're in trouble," Pete promised Frank, shutting his eyes tightly as more blood spilled. No wonder Frank had worked so efficiently on getting him aroused. It made things easier for him to chop off. Fuck, he couldn't believe he could say that.

"What are you gonna do?" Frank asked, laughing while he looked at Pete through the dressing mirror. "Fuck me? Yeah right."

Pete tried to scramble to get Frank, but as soon as he made such quick movements more blood splattered and he remembered that he'd been tied up. The stupid fuck had this planned from the get-go.

But moving was not the best thing to do if he wanted to stay alive long enough to kill Frank for what he did. In fact, he'd do much better if he stayed alive to fight this battle another day. Instead of thrashing wildly about, Pete began to focus his energy on freeing himself from the bondage. If only he could get himself freed and find that gun…

"What do you think you're doing?" Frank asked, chuckling as the adrenaline rushed through his body. He shut the drawer that was already open and opened the one below it for sedatives that Pete regularly kept to use on him back in the day. Instead, he found a gun.

Frank's eyes widened as he put two and two together, figuring out that Pete might have had the upper hand all along. But he was in no position to threaten him today, right now. And because of that, Frank looked at the hidden gun in awe and wonder instead of in fear. Surrounding the gun were the sedatives Frank was looking for, but after the amazement of finding a gun wore out in Frank's system, he grabbed the sedative and filled it up before grasping the gun. Calmly he sat on the bed, next to the gun's owner.

"I think this is what you're looking for," Frank finally stated, waving it in front of Pete. The color drained from Pete's face as he fell silent and still, now begging with Frank to spare him.

"Please, Frank," Pete asked, tears falling from his eyes as he openly sobbed. "Don't. I'm sorry." Frank simply laughed in his face as he twirled the gun in his hand, looking for the 'safety' switch.

"Sorry? What for?" Frank asked, raising a brow as he found the switch. As he debated whether or not to take it off safety, he sucked on the detached extremity in his hand and Pete looked away, ashamed of what things had come down to. Frank lost his cool when Pete looked away and snarled for Pete to look.

"That's better," Frank eventually cooed, smirking as he hit the limp appendage against his cheek. "Aren't you so proud of the freak you raised?"

Pete grimaced as the blood marked Frank's crazed face, but Frank licked it off his lips, smiling. He could taste the tang on his tongue and wasn't surprised as he saw the fear on Pete's face. His mouth must have looked horrible with dried blood between his teeth, but it wasn't too bad. He was used to tasting blood. It turned him on, after all. The taste of blood reminded him of all the rough sexual moments he had with Gerard. It was glorious.

Frank resumed sucking on the object and he stopped once he noticed again the continuous pumping of blood from Pete's castration. He smirked, shaking his head as he neared Pete with the syringe he had picked up along with the gun. He wasn't sure of what the syringe was filled with, but he'd filled it to the brim. Never before had he seen Pete fill it that far; it'd always been half-way or less, so he was sure this amount was harmful enough.

"It's a shame, Petey," he murmured, swiftly inserting the needle into Pete's arm. "I guess I love dick so much, but you don't seem to have one."

"Agh!" Pete gasped, shutting his eyes. "Frank, no!"

"Shut up." Frank set the switchblade knife down along with the syringe. "You messed up. You've been messed up," Frank said in an airy voice, giggling. "You have yet to be punished," he continued, winking. He wasn't surprised when Pete didn't wink back, but he didn't care. This was his time, and he felt greatly liberated. He was in control. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted.

He got up off of Pete long enough to find something that could prove deadly enough to use on Pete. Pete was in no position to raise his head and see what was going on. With every passing moment he was growing weaker. Loss of blood and sedatives tend to do that to a person.

Pete remained quiet, whimpering as he heard the materials Frank was messing with click together. Soon enough, Frank continued Pete's 'punishment' and Pete gasped as he felt something cold and slick enter him. It just added to the pain in his already damaged midsection.

"Frank, please call for help," Pete finally murmured, at a loss for better words. "Please. I'm dying."

"That's the point, asshole," Frank said, scoffing as he inserted another object in Pete's ass. "Duh."

Pete rolled his head to the side as he felt himself losing the battle to stay conscious. "But you already got me back for messing with Gerard—"

"And Mikey," Frank interrupted. "That's what the drugs were for, by the way."

"So why won't you let me go?" Pete asked, about to cry. "Please, I'm so sorry. If you would just let me—"

"Ha! History has a funny way of repeating itself, doesn't it?" Frank interrupted him, laughing once more. "Didn't I used to say that to you?"

"Frank—"

"No, fucker," Frank snapped, losing his cool once more. Pete grunted as he felt more cool rods slipped into his ass and Frank bit his lip in anticipation. "This is my show. You thought you could fuck me over without getting what you deserve?"

"I thought you said you liked it!" Pete cried, trying to sit up.

And that's when it happened. The mercury filled bars cracked as he hastily sat up and leaked into his system as the glass shards ripped his rectum to shreds.

Pete gasped, his breaths short and quick as he quickly lost the battle to stay alive. And as he remained on his elbows, dying with each breath, Frank giggled.

"I lied," he said, smiling as he feverishly sucked on a wound on his lip he attained from the little frisk he had with Pete when he chopped of his dick. It felt good.

"Wh-what'd you put in there?" Pete asked fearfully, moaning in agony. Frank smiled.

"Thermometers…You know the glass ones with mercury inside them?" Frank said, giggling with an afterthought. "That's bad for you, isn't it?"

Pete began crying, bawling as his vision faded. "I fucking trusted you!" he sobbed, snot coming down his nose as he ultimately admitted defeat. He began blubbering he was sorry and he needed to be helped before he died, but Frank simply smiled with glee. He could kind of understand why and how Pete felt as powerful as he did whenever he had been crying and begging for Pete to stop. He looked pathetic, and Frank loved every second of it.

"Trust?" Frank asked, feigning confusion. "I don't know what that is."

Pete's eyes widened as he felt the darkness come to surround and engulf him, and he felt the sedative take effect as Frank practically slapped him in the face with the whole issue of trust. Frank was right; history did have a funny way of repeating itself. He'd thought Frank stupid and naïve for believing in trust, yet Pete's trust in Frank was his own downfall.

"F-Frankie," Pete gasped, struggling for air as Frank sat on top of him. "I'm so s-sorry…for everything."

"I don't want to hear it," Frank said, bringing out the knife again. Pete started hyperventilating as it neared him, but Frank never actually gave a fuck as he let the sharp tip delve onto Pete's freshly shaven lower abdominal. With no time to waste, Frank etched the words on Pete's skin as death approached.

"Cunt," Frank murmured gleefully as Pete writhed underneath him. Pete groaned, feeling his final moments come to an end and he glared at Frank with a smug look that he knew Frank hated.

"Tell me who's the easier cunt," Pete muttered, his eyes shutting as he lazily grinned. "It took you, what, three years before you had dick in your ass. But babe, it only took Gerard a couple of months."

Hearing that from Pete made Frank snap and he immediately descended for Pete's neck, taking the knife and slitting his throat in one swift motion. Of course, he repeated his actions just to make sure. And to top it all off, he finished by choking the man until his last breath. It was rejuvenating to feel the blood squirt through Frank's fingers, and he giggled at the feeling.

When Pete stopped struggling and his heart ceased to beat, Frank pulled away, satisfied with the starry look in Pete's open eyes. With his bloody and red hands, he pulled his hair back to clear his line of vision. Steadily, he climbed off Pete and headed downstairs naked, where he went to the conference room and grabbed a snack pack of Oreos.

After years of torment, Pete was finally gone. Most importantly, Frank was one step closer to Gerard.


	63. Let's Stay Together 'Til We're Ghosts

**Let's Stay Together 'Til We're Ghosts; I've Never Witnessed Love, I Want to See it Close**

Sara stopped by later that night to check up on the couple. She had expected to open the door and find Pete and Frank in each other's arms, but instead she was greeted with the image of Frank sprawled awkwardly over the couch, surrounded by thin sheets.

Sara caught herself smirking as she thought about what the two did with each other. Those two were meant to be, she was sure of it. They had no limits for their sexual love and anything, literally anything, was possible. So there was justly any possibility or reason as to why Frank looked the way he did.

Frank sighed and nuzzled into the couch, startling Sara from her thoughts for a moment. She noticed he went back into his rhythmic slumber as he tightly gripped an object in his hand.

"He probably thinks it's Pete," she murmured to herself, smiling. Frank's hands squeezed tightly, holding on to the couch and the thin sheets surrounding him. As an afterthought, she added, "I should get him something."

Staring at Frank adoringly, she went upstairs to find something that she could give him to cuddle with. She had a feeling Pete would come and suffice, but for the moment she wanted to give Frank something and maybe silently leave a hint that she had stopped by and hadn't wanted to interrupt anything.

As she made it to the top of the staircase, she passed Frank's room and noticed it was locked. She thought that she'd find the perfect plushie for him inside his own room, but she guessed it was of limits. Then again, since when did Frank have plushies? Maybe Pete got one for him like she suggested, and it was still hidden where she'd told him to hide it.

But that couldn't be, she realized. She and Pete went over the plan numerous times and it was agreed that Pete would adorn Frank with gifts after they became intimate again. By the looks of it, they were done. Pete was out and Frank was on the sofa waiting for his beloved Pete. Pete must have given Frank the plushie by now. Maybe that was what Frank was holding on to down there?

Slowly, Sara made her way back downstairs and fumbled for the light switch. While she trusted her eyes, things would be a lot easier if she had some light. It was very early in the morning, after all.

When the light came on, gently and quietly, she made her way to the entertainment center to shut off the television. It was obvious by Frank's deep breaths that he was sleeping, and with a look at the time it was even more obvious that he wasn't going to wake up and watch the television any time soon. She put the television off, and at that same moment Frank shifted in his sleep.

Sara stood still, slowly turning around to face Frank as she silently urged his sleeping pattern to return. She had to wait a good minute for it, but eventually she was convinced Frank had gone back to sleep. That's when she continued her survey of the area and realized the object in Frank's hand was highly questionable. With her heart beating erratically, Sara neared Frank as she struggled to see just what it was Frank had gripped tightly in his hand.

What the fuck was that?

Sara's eyes widened as she made out the faint shape of what Frank held in his hand, and she took a step back. She had been so engrossed by the mysterious object that she hadn't noticed Frank's breathing pattern was no longer deep and rhythmic, with his eyes closed as he drifted to sleep; his breathing was now non-existent, eyes wide open as he awoke to find Sara staring at his hand.

She screamed and jumped back, her nails digging into the side of her face as she shook. Frank simply shifted his position and held the object in question. He calmly waited for Sara to finish screaming before he sat up and questioned her.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, and with how clear his voice sounded Sara was convinced that he hadn't been sleeping the whole time she was here. It crept her the fuck out, and she was tempted to scream again but she stopped herself. The neighbors would wonder what the fuck was happening. Besides, she really had no reason to freak out over anything. The only thing that was sure was that Frank had been pretending to sleep the whole time she was here. While that was creepy, it was not something to wake the neighbors up over.

However, Sara's eyes went from Frank's face back to his hand and she backed away again with her cell in her own hand. She kept her finger hovered over Pete's speed dial as she gathered the courage to ask and find out the answer to her question.

"Frank, what the fuck are you holding?" she finally asked, but Frank didn't reply and instead remained staring at her. Her heartbeat slowed as she dared ask the next question. She was beginning to feel that something was off, and maybe there was a reason Pete wasn't around. Frank hadn't been acting like this earlier, had he? So with his current attitude, she had every right to be suspicious.

"Frank?" she tried again, her finger pressing against the button now. Screw it. So what if she ended up making a scene where one wasn't needed? It was better to be safe than sorry. With pressure now off the clicked button, she took a deep and shaky breath as she asked, "Where's Petey?"

As if on cue Pete's cell phone began ringing, but it didn't console Sara at all when she heard the sound coming from Frank. As she stared in horror at him, Frank gave a devilish smirk and finally revealed what he'd been gripping tightly ever since she stepped foot in the house.

And that's when she called for the police.

* * *

  
What hurt most for Frank was the fact that Gerard had to go through it; the whole aspect of a trial and getting witnesses, only to be sent off to jail and eventually prison was time consuming and depressing. It helped to know someone was there for you or else you'd lose yourself, which was exactly what happened to Frank (if he hadn't already the day Gerard was taken away from him or when he killed Pete).

All Frank could think about was how he'd abruptly left Gerard hanging. He had no idea just how much moral support mattered. And now that he _did _know, it was too late to do anything about it.

In a sense, Frank guessed he had moral support in the form of his mother, who was convinced that Pete might have done something to irk him. Apparently, she claimed to have iffy feelings about Pete, but when he confessed to loving Frank she had to push those feelings aside. Frank would have believed so long ago, but now he couldn't give a rat's ass. He didn't want his mother's support, and he didn't need her fucking money. Believe it or not, she had invested a whole lot into the case, more money than she had into Gerard's confinement, to prove Frank innocent. But in the end, the public eye couldn't let their star of the Iero Kidnapping die in vain and Frank was convicted of first-degree murder, sentenced to 99 years in prison instead of the death penalty (which had been abolished just years before, luckily enough for him).

Preferably Mr. Iero wanted his son on death row, but you can't win them all.

Not only were his parents at the trial, but so were Gerard's own. Behind the scenes, Mrs. Way and Irene had gotten closer. After the ordeal of the fake funeral and Gerard's own trial, the two bonded and used each other as moral support. In fact, Irene had ended up paying for the true funeral for Michael Way, and in turn Mrs. Way was forever grateful and spurred Irene's hatred of Gerard, convinced that her eldest son was the one responsible for his little brother's death. And when news reached her ears that Frank had killed Pete, she was the first one to fuel Irene's fire of hatred, claiming that Frank must have learned his ways from Gerard. So, admittedly, telling all that happened that night wasn't the smart thing to do if he wanted to clear Gerard's image, because they would only connect the actions to Gerard. Frank chose to with hold from that; he'd done enough damage to him already.

Frank stayed in jail for eleven months, before being sent off to Newark's Prison. He'd learned that he had passed through the same jail Gerard had when the officer read his name and smirked before muttering, "It's a small world after all," as she passed him. Of course, she didn't dare add any other snide remarks. In jail or not, he was still an Iero.

Those months in jail were hard for Frank. He didn't try to open up to anyone, not after all that happened in his life since he last let someone in over three years ago. His cellmates all bonded, leaving him isolated. And though jail wasn't nearly as big as the prison he was arranged to go to, people still managed to have their way with Frank. Though in Frank's defense (or lack of it), he'd let them. He wanted to feel something, anything, to remind him that he wasn't dreaming. This was his life. He was an inmate. He had actually killed Pete Wentz after years of abuse. He was going to grow old and die while incarcerated. He might as well have enjoyed the benefits that came with being in captivity.

He'd been doing this for most his life, actually, living in restricted conditions and learning to make the best of it. He'd done it before Gerard, he'd done it _with _Gerard, and fuck, he was going to do it after Gerard too. Frank came along the very important epiphany that prison was the perfect place for someone like him to be; he was meant to live there. If all the fucked up things that happened to him and the way he lived didn't prove it, then he wasn't sure what did.

A part of Frank had rejoiced when he learned where he was to reside for the rest of his life. Apparently, he was supposed to go to the State Prison, where all the huge offenders were: that was the default destination, the place where Gerard had ended up (the last he heard of). But his mother and Gerard's mother had fought so fucking hard to make sure Frank wasn't sent there, so he was sent to Newark's Penitentiary instead.

Frank wasn't even sure why the thought of being in the same prison as Gerard was appealing; it wasn't like he and Gerard would ever meet up. He wouldn't be surprised if Gerard had been moved to some high security section of the prison for his safety, restricted from interacting with other inmates. And though Frank wasn't in the same prison as Gerard, he sort of appreciated the act of living in separate buildings of confinement. He didn't know if he could stand being in the same building as Gerard without being allowed to contact him. Gerard would be eye-candy once more, and Frank still remembered what happened the last time Gerard was reduced to simply being eye-candy.

Prison was a life of its own. Frank kind of liked it though. Not many inmates had a fucking clue of who he was and he didn't blame them. They were mostly uneducated folks, or people not primarily interested in stock companies and their families. Of course, the same stood for guards, since most of them worked for the government. Frank's connections as an Iero only worked on those with individual practices and companies.

That didn't mean that his mother didn't find ways to get what she wanted. There was an occasional visit from a couple of guards at Frank's cell, just to make sure Frank was always comfortable. Wouldn't want him to tell mommy after all, now would you?

That was another thing that made Frank laugh himself to sleep during his first year as a locked up criminal. Most of the people his mother was paying money to watch over him were the ones fucking him, both literally and figuratively. Pete fell in the same category and (as much as he hated to admit it) so did Gerard. Frank just had a way with people, he guessed. He never expected the guard Alejandro, father of two little girls and a happily married man, to indulge in such activities. It just showed Frank that no matter how well and put together someone was, there were always skeletons in the closet. For some people, living bodies were still in there, fighting to come out and breathe.

Frank was like the rest of the people he shared cells with: there was nothing to hide, not once you were locked up. What's more, anything went. The place was full of officers, but most of them were bribed to look one way or another. Frank didn't blame them; they were working for public service, in one of the most dangerous places. They definitely weren't getting paid enough. Prison was a bad place to catch yourself. Luckily enough for Frank, it was destined, which was why he was perhaps better prepared or more adjusted than others had been. And once things started to fall in line, Frank found himself feeling more at home than he ever had. That was, until he had to be transferred.

It was a tough choice for Frank to make. He had finally allowed himself to (quite literally) open up to and manipulate the prison officers and guards enough that he got everything he wanted. Within serving 3 out of his 99 year service there, Frank was already put on the waiting list due to 'good behavior.' Of course, he had killed someone and plead guilty to it so he wasn't going to get out early for his good behavior. But because of his good behavior, he was allowed to live elsewhere on the prison grounds instead of being lumped together with the rest of them. That's what being on the waiting list did for you. While it did situate him closer to the perverted officers and guards, he was away from the general public. That was always a plus for him.

But Frank's 'good behavior' started going downhill once he realized his mother could give him daily visits in his new placement, instead of abiding to the standard visiting time from 3:00PM to 5:00PM. He finally noticed the difference between his situation when it was brought to his attention by one of his fellow living mates that his 'sister' (no one knew his mother) seemed to visit him a lot more than other people's sisters were allowed to. And now that Frank looked back on it, he realized just how true that was. So he finally asked questions and found out the truth behind the whole thing. He didn't want to see her if he didn't need to, and if he'd have to give up the nice little room/dorm thing he had going on which was actually an arrangement of her doing, then so be it.

That's when Frank met Steve. He became his cellmate after getting into a fight with one of the guards. James had tried to advance on Frank as he usually did, but Frank had an agenda that night and made a scene. Rather than yell out that he was being raped (for he loved the sex too much to give it up) Frank attacked James. James and the guards who were in the loop with Frank's mother came quickly to break up the fight, but once the superintendent was alerted on the matter, Frank was moved back down to live with the others. He had shown risky behavior, even if his only weapon was a plastic knife and he'd only broken skin. James and the rest were forced to say that it was Frank's fault, because if the superintendent was alerted on what actually took place, they would all lose their jobs. Of course, with Frank's new placement they had all lost a huge chunk of their 'sponsorship' so to speak. Irene was not a happy camper upon hearing the news.

Steve was exactly the type of person Frank was happy he'd been able to avoid for four years, and once he fell out of favor with the superintendent he was stuck with Steve unless Steve or himself was moved by chance of luck, or if either of them died (also by chance of luck). But things weren't looking too well from Frank's standpoint.

Steve was nearly another copy of Pete, except he despised those he called 'faggots.' Frank wasn't sure what was going on. In his eyes, this was a typical 'pot-calling-the-kettle-black' sort of thing, but Steve obviously didn't see things from that end. For him, it was all right to fuck guys up the ass. Anal sex was still sex, he argued, and if he liked to relieve his sexual tensions through anal sex and there was an ass willing to be there, he was going to use it. That didn't make him a faggot. That made him a guy with needs. As for the guy who allowed for Steve to fuck him, that guy was the faggot.

He got into several arguments with Steve over the matter. After every discussion they had, they ended it on civil terms. But Frank could see he was pushing Steve's envelope. While Steve had yet to actually hit him, illogical homophobes were the worst to end up with so Frank's guard was always up. He was sure that Steve had no idea just what Frank had been doing all his life. Had he known, he would have probably beat Frank up like he did to another inmate two weeks ago.

With his luck, Frank eventually got caught with one of the guards. Steve hadn't caught him blatantly in the act, but he was able to deduce that the two had been together.

It slowly started to fit in as to why Frank had strongly defended those he called 'faggots.' He was one himself! Steve had to give it to Frank, though; he'd tricked him good. The numerous tattoos he had and the hair he sported (as well as his fit body) made Steve think Frank was just like him. Sure they had their disagreements, but they were similar, more similar than maybe Frank was willing to admit. Or so Steve thought.

The night Steve found out about Frank, his respect for his cellmate went down the drain. Frank had stumbled in, completely dazed and off balance as he griped on the bars for support. After a minute or two of catching his breath, Frank turned around so that he was facing Steve, who was sitting on the bottom flipping through a magazine he'd flipped through a thousand times. Needless to say, he was studying Frank.

"Where were you?" Steve casually asked, putting the book aside. For a couple of weeks, he'd been suspicious of Frank's activity. Now was the best time to question him on it.

"Out," was all Frank said, and Steve snickered.

"No shit you were 'out.' I mean where?"

"The officers wanted to see me—"

"They always want to fucking 'see' you," Steve interrupted.

"So? What's that matter for? You're not my fucking boyfriend," Frank snapped back defensively, and Steve stiffened. Frank hadn't thought much about what he'd said, but after he said it, it was too late to take it back. Steve was overly protective of anything that questioned his sexuality.

Steve stood up, arms pumped as he demanded to know where Frank was. "Yeah? Well tell me, Frank: who is?"

Luck was not on Frank's side that night, and just as Steve began interrogating him the guard Frank had just slept with grabbed Frank's ass as he passed by. Frank gasped and shut his eyes, angrily hitting his head against the bars. Tonight wasn't going to be a calm one. He could already tell.

Frank barely got away with it that night, but he wasn't able to escape the following week. It was inevitable. Steve sat in bed, waiting for Frank to stumble in and when he did, he made sure to make clear to Frank how he felt. That night Steve had turned his attention to Frank and beat him up for acting like a 'faggot,' right before he ended up fucking Frank. Frank didn't want to give the jerk satisfaction by moaning, but a slew of curses escaped as Steve hit his prostate repetitively.

To be honest, that was one of the things Frank hated the most about his time with Gerard. Gerard had awoken certain feelings within him, feelings he couldn't shake away. And he hated it, because he'd wanted to only feel those things when he was with Gerard. Instead, he found himself experiencing those same feelings when Pete had fucked him, as well as the random men in prison (including) Steve. Steve of all people didn't deserve a thing from him, but he made Frank cum twice that night.

After Steve was done 'punishing' Frank for being a 'faggot,' Frank asked him if he still felt the way he did about gays. He thought Steve would lighten up his views of gay people after possibly sleeping with him, someone he had some ounce of respect for. But Steve was relentless and constantly became a bigger threat to Frank.

Frank wasn't going down that easily though. He didn't get Gerard sent to jail and then kill Pete just so he could end up with the same life in jail.

Prior to that moment, Steve and Frank had been put on high security watch due to the activity that occurred between them (both the fucking and the fighting in the leading months). However, Frank had caught him alone outside one day and took Steve's life during the opportune moment. Like last time, Frank was also discovered a couple of hours after the murder; suspicion had grown once the guards realized that Steve hadn't come out for his daily shower session, or breakfast.

It was a combination of these behaviors and murders that Frank was being moved today from the Northern State Prison in Newark to the New Jersey State Prison. It was a step closer to Gerard though, since he was being moved. His mother was more powerful with the Prison in Newark than she was at the State Prison, which is why she was unhappy about Frank being moved to the Prison she spent so much money on to ensure he didn't go to in the first place.

But getting away from this prison wasn't enough. Sure, Gerard had been placed in this prison, but who was to say he was still there? For Frank, there would never be enough consolation knowing that Gerard used to reside in the incarceration building he was in. And with his luck, Gerard had long ago moved, or maybe even worse, Gerard could have died. He was a child molester, after all.

Frank shuddered, kicking that thought away from his mind. If he was going to survive the system, he was going to have to stop thinking of what could have happened to Gerard. The sooner he came to terms with their ultimate separation, the better. Besides, he knew from the get-go that he and Gerard would never be together. And the murder of Pete was more of a vengeful thing than it was to get him and Gerard together. Pete was killed because he deserved to be killed, not because Frank and Gerard would end up in jail together. On what fucking planet would that work?

After some of the studies he took that semester at Harvard, Frank knew the chances were slim to none that he'd even see Gerard again, in prison or not. And maybe that's what drove him to actually go ahead and kill Pete, because his life wasn't going to get any better than it already was.

* * *

  
"We'd appreciate it if you boarded quickly," a guard started, and one nodded in agreement. Frank looked back, startled as the man interrupted his thoughts that day. "The ride there can be pretty hectic with traffic," he added. Frank nodded in agreement and obediently followed as they led him outside to meet the busses, with seats already reserved for him. He was to be surrounded by at least two officers during the transport, in addition to the officers onboard to ensure the transfer happened successfully.

There was much hype made about his transport amongst the officials that Frank wasn't surprised about the reserved seat he had, as well as the bodyguards. But he did put this on himself. No one asked him to kill Steve, and he could have opted to live in Death Row. While the death penalty had been abolished in New Jersey, the section of the prison still existed. Frank would have gone there, but the death rate was extremely high. In addition, once you entered you could not get out except to eat and shower. Frank couldn't stand that much restriction. So he'd opted (by way of his connections and Iero name) to start afresh in another prison.

The only place he could go was State Prison, since the crimes committed had occurred in state, and both people he killed were NJ residents. Had he killed another person in the State Prison, he'd remain there on high security watch. And if he killed another person who happened to be a resident of another state, he'd be on high security watch before being sent off to that state to be tried for the death penalty. That option was always at the back of Frank's mind, but so far he chose to give prison life another chance.

Before Frank boarded the bus, he was held gently by one of the guards named Armando. The other officers stopped walking once they realized Frank had stopped moving and soon all eyes were on the two men. Although Armando hadn't wanted to pull attention on himself, he finally whispered into Frank's ear.

"I'll…we'll miss you, sir," he spoke quietly, and Frank gave a small smile. Of course Armando would miss the heated nights of passion they shared, even if for a few quick minutes. Frank always made it worth the risk. But his smile disappeared when his mind went back to thoughts of Gerard, and how badly he missed him. There were some great fucks along the way; that was not even up for debate. But without the element of love, the greatest of fuckings lacked something only Gerard could make up.

Silently, Frank nodded and boarded the bus as Armando's fellow officers cast him questioning looks to explain the message under Frank's brief smile. With the officers surrounding the inmates, it was obvious to see which ones were associated with Frank's mother and which ones had no idea what was going on. Half of them looked at the bus longingly as Frank sat, while the others hastily tried to load the bus with the rest of the inmates.

Frank sat in the back near the window, taking in the scene before him. Armando was still apprehensively looking at Frank, and Frank stared back. A guard made his way to his fellow guard's side and hit his shoulder asking, "What'd you say?" Armando gave Frank one last look before he cleared his throat and shrugged it off.

"Just wished him luck, is all," Frank heard him tell the guard, patting his shoulder. "He'll need it, won't he? State Prison's tough."

* * *

  
After nearly a decade in prison, Gerard realized he couldn't stand other people.

All his life, he'd been screwed over by them. Mikey was the only exception. Frank couldn't be part of the exceptional list completely. It didn't matter if Frank meant to or not. In the end, Gerard had ended up being screwed over, with the last eight years of his life reduced to a dingy cell.

Though Frank had screwed him over the most, the love he had for the kid made it worthwhile. There were times that he sorely missed him, and then there were other times when Frank's absence was truly the best medicine. Gerard contemplated committing suicide when he learned the reason that Frank had stopped visiting him was so that he could spend time with Pete, of all people.

But he couldn't stop loving Frank. Even after numerous tabloids had printed articles and photos about the new and happy couple, Gerard still had some small part in his heart, which he reserved for Frank. He had been the one who told Frank to move on. He should have been happy that Frank was listening to him.

That was bullshit he said, though, and it hurt that Frank actually listened to him and went with Pete. At least if he were to follow Gerard's wishes, he should have done so with someone more deserving. And he didn't have to be so abrupt, cutting off all forms of communication either. Gerard hated him for some time because of that. But he began to lighten up as soon as he began adjusting to prison life.

It wasn't so bad, especially if you had a mini-reputation to keep up. In the state prison, only a handful of people knew who he was and what he'd done. So he was able to lay low, yet maintain a certain degree of reverence from the others. It was only at the county jail where people revered him completely. The county jail was where Frank had been placed also, before he'd been sent off to the Newark prison.

That was actually something that had surprised Gerard. When he'd heard the news, he'd been confused. They must have mixed up some information or something, he figured, because Frank would never hurt anyone, let alone sadistically murder someone in cold blood. Frank had mentioned here and there that he would kill Pete for what he'd done to him, as do many ladies and gentlemen all over the world, but rarely does it actually happen.

Besides, it was an inmate who passed the information along to him. Frank was a topic of interest for Gerard for a long time, long enough that those who didn't associate Frank with him before, started to associate the two. Confusingly enough, Gerard had started to show that he was losing interest in the Iero kid, which was genuine. Frank had left him to rot in prison so, goddamn it, he was going to rot in peace. He didn't need to see Frank and become depressed about his situation, like he had during his first years. If he was going to spend the rest of his life here, he might as well make himself comfortable.

There wasn't anything Gerard really hated about the past though, besides the fact that Pete had seemed to rub off on him. It was evident back when he was with Frank; back then his mind had been clouded with foolish notions of love. (He was sure those 'foolish notions' were still there, waiting for the day Frank and he would meet again, but until then they were currently non-existent.) Characteristics of Pete showed up the most as Gerard tried to make his place in prison. He found himself preying on the defenseless and using them for his urges. He found himself degrading them as well, pushing their bodies to the limit. It didn't matter to him if masochism wasn't their thing. When they were with him, he made it their thing.

And it didn't matter how many of them begged for him not to continue. He just took the bed sheets and tied it around their mouths as they cried in pain. Sometimes he went as far as implementing such raw materials as forks and knives (the plastic ones they gave at meal time) and used them for his excitement.

For those few moments, sick fuck or not, each of his victims was his own and he could imagine and do whatever he wanted. He couldn't have been too bad; after all, some of them came back to him. But the similarities only clicked when he noticed how he behaved with a particular boy named Billy. Billy was one of the few Gerard selected that was actually a masochist, so they fit together well. In fact, for the past couple of months, Gerard and he had been fucking.

However, he and Billy had to part their separate ways. Billy, as it turns out, was put on high security watch for that very reason. An inmate that had connections to one of the officers found out ahead of time that Gerard was nominated for getting a new cellmate, and this apparently irked Billy off. That was when Gerard learned that the two of them weren't simply fucking for fun. Billy thought and felt more than he should have.

Gerard tried to talk Billy down and re-explain the fact that they weren't a couple. He didn't believe in couples, not after Frank at least, and so Billy had to get that notion out of his head. They were two men in jail that needed sexual release, and they fit each other's desires. That was it, and there was no need to get jealous of the newcomer. Besides, Billy had his fun. Why be greedy and hog it all?

Needless to say, it wasn't easy getting Billy off of his case. They had 'broken up' from a relationship that didn't even exist in Gerard's eyes at least two weeks ago, but Billy still wasn't letting up. Gerard wasn't too serious, though. What if Gerard's new roommate sucked? Maybe Billy's persistence would pay off in the end.

And like Gerard had said, all the people in his life had screwed him over at one point. Billy now fit that description, because if he'd just acted normally instead of going off on a tangent about possibly being moved, maybe he wouldn't have been moved in the first place and Gerard would have no new cellmate to worry about. Alas, it did not go that way and Gerard now had an empty bunk bed beneath his own, waiting for a new owner.

There was a light buzzing sound as the locks on the cell doors unlocked, freeing the inmates from their captivity to breathe some fresh air (while still on prison grounds, of course). Gerard went to his regular spot, surrounded by his posse.

A group of people watching over him was nothing Gerard ever asked for; it was kind of part of a package. Taking advantage of people did have its benefits: those scared of you easily became willing puppets for your control. So he used them. He was staying here for the rest of his life. If these people wanted to put him on a pedestal, he was all right with that.

A couple of minutes into their free time, a group of new faces entered the field, taking cautious glances every once in a while at the sea of fellow convicts surrounding them. It was these people, Gerard assumed, who were new to the compound. It was also one of these people, he thus concluded, he'd be sharing a cell with.

"Is that it?" Gerard asked, nodding his head in their direction as the large group of newcomers eventually dispersed. James, standing right beside Gerard, nodded.

"That's the batch for this year," he replied, staring everyone over. "So…I guess the new addition to the team's someone from there," he concluded, referring to their group. Gerard sighed, but nodded in agreement. Together, the two of them stoked and picked out which ones they thought would possibly fill in Billy's place.

* * *

  
"Let me lay down the rules," the governess instructed, smacking the gum in her mouth. Frank stared at her, disinterested as she smirked. Quite honestly, he would have preferred to go outside with the rest of the guys. But, he was Frank Iero. Of course that came with complications, and he was a bit foolish to think he'd get off the brink like that. Just simply change into a new prison? Not without there being some strings attached.

"Number one," she started, index finger in the air. "No fucking." A smirk made its way to Frank's face right then, and he refused to make any attempt to hide it. That was one rule he was sure to break, and he could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn't expect him to follow that rule either.

"Number two," she continued, adding her middle finger alongside the previous one, "no fighting. Number three, no stealing. And lastly, rule number four is no killing…not unless you want to be extradited. We may not have the death penalty here in Jersey, but I assure you it exists. Got that, Frank?"

Frank held his smirk as he replied, cocking his head to the side. Hopefully her little speech was over. "I've been in prison for some time now. I think I get how it goes."

"Ah, but you're an Iero," she replied, shaking her head. "Rules have always bended for you; now's an exception."

"I don't get it," Frank stated, and the woman kept laughing at Frank's position. "I'm here, aren't I? What do you mean 'now's an exception'?"

When she finally did speak, she changed the topic and disregarded his obvious blunder. "Just keep it in mind, Frank, that cellmates don't change unless drastic changes occur. You are stuck with your cellmate. Do you understand?" Frank nodded, still not convinced that he was about to pay for what he'd done to get where he was.

"Good," she replied. "Maybe I should have told that to your mother before I set your living quarters in stone."

"What exactly did my mom do?" Frank asked, leaning against the wall of the brick office. He gave a heavy sigh. He thought getting out of the penitentiary in Newark was his way breaking loose from his mother. Apparently, that was not entirely so. The woman situated across from Frank smiled, taking a seat in her chair. Frank could tell she loved the attention, and she was going to soak it all in.

"Mommy tried to arrange for you to be situated far away from the D Wing," she replied casually, mocking him. "And so, I put you right smack dab in the middle of it. Oh, she isn't happy. Not in the slightest," she continued, answering questions she thought Frank had. Little did she know Frank didn't really care about how his mother felt, but she continued nonetheless.

"Nobody deserves special treatment. It doesn't matter if you kill a beggar on the street, or the fucking president of the United States; a life is a life and, I don't care how much fucking money you have, a murderer is still a murderer."

"I agree," Frank simply stated, nodding as he reveled in the fact that his mother—for once—was not able to intervene. But she cut him off.

"Shhh," she said smirking. "You won't be so willing to agree once you see who I've paired you with. Typically this doesn't happen, but I feel it is the right place for you, given your history and what you've done to deserve a place here for life. Karma, Frank, is a bitch."

Frank remained against her wall, thinking about what on Earth she was talking about. Was there really that bad of a program at the State Prison? He'd only chosen here because he hadn't wanted to be put on the Death Row section of the Newark Prison, but now he was being placed 'smack dab' in the middle of the D Wing. What was the D Wing?

"Do you mind if I ask what the D Wing is?" Frank questioned, and she shook her head, smiling.

"D is for death…as in Death Wing, Death Row, whatever you want to call it," she said. "Jeez, Frank," she mocked him yet again. "You've been in Prison before. You know how it works. I would have thought you knew the terminology by now."

Frank bit his tongue to keep from uttering a smartass response to her jab at him, because getting on D Wing over here was better than getting Death Row at the Newark Penitentiary. Over there, he had two strikes. Agreeing to be moved from the dorm-like room he was in to Death Row back at Newark counted as one strike, and if it ever reached the point where he had two strikes, he'd be on maximum-security watch. Going to State Prison allowed him a chance to start over afresh, though he was sure the consequences were direr at the State Level.

"Must have slipped my mind," Frank muttered instead, raising a brow. "Should have known."

"Damn right, you should have!" she barked, easing up on her seat. "This is the rest of your life, Frankie-boy. Get used to it."

Frank lost his cool demeanor after he heard her use Pete's nickname on him, and she noticed his shift against her wall.

"Get used to that, too."

"Used to what?" he asked, playing it off. But it was obvious she'd detected something.

"The pet names," she concluded. "You're a sight to see and I know the boys always touch, especially your new friend."

"I thought that was against the rules?" Frank asked, and she scoffed as she rolled her eyes.

"They are, but take a good look around you Iero; you're in prison, a place full of people who couldn't, and still can't, follow rules." Frank looked just as unnerved as before, so she took another go at him.

"Look, kid. Long ago, back when you lived with the rest of society, you were given four basic rules: no killing, no raping, no stealing, and no fighting. All the fucking idiots who couldn't follow those rules, yourself included, were sent to prison. So in short, I don't give a fuck what happens to you. Society did at one point, but you basically told them 'fuck you' and I'm here to do the same. Sure, those four rules may still exist within these walls and on paper, but you've got to be a fucking nut if you think I'll enforce the rules amongst the prisoners themselves. You guys want to kill, rape, steal, and fight? Good. Go ahead and rip each other to shreds. And when you all meet in Hell, you can keep doing the same damn thing."

Frank could easily see here that his mother's wings were nowhere near him, and he was on his own. For the first time since he'd started serving his sentence, he was on his own and being treated just like every other prisoner, if not maybe worse. He liked it, and couldn't help but to smirk at the woman's refreshing attitude. She smiled at him too, and patted his shoulder as she showed him the door.

"Get the fuck out of my office, Frankie-boy," she muttered. "Your cellmate's waiting."

* * *

  
By the end of the hour, Frank had made himself at home in the cell. He had no belongings, so he simply sat on the bottom bunk. That one was his, he figured, since the one above his own looked slept in. He didn't bother looking through the piles of paper scattered around the room because from afar he could make out that they were letters, and he wasn't about to start snooping around his new cellmate's belongings to find out his business. He came here to start over. Most importantly, his mother had no power over here (it seemed), so he couldn't afford to screw up. He was just going to have to wait for the man to enter and find out about him the old fashioned way.

Frank thought about what he'd be telling his new companion, and what he'd be finding out about him as well. They were cellmates living in the D Wing; they must have done something pretty exotic to end up here.

A wave of guilt washed over Frank as he thought about when Gerard first stepped through those doors at the prison entrance, and how he must have felt to be questioned by his inmates. Most of the people he would have encountered would have really killed and raped people, but he hadn't. How out of place it must have been for Gerard, and how foreign must it have sounded for him to spit out that he'd killed his brother and raped some kid?

Looking back on it now, Frank badly wished he'd kept in contact with Gerard, no matter how suspicious it would have seemed to the rest of the world. Gerard must have needed someone, and hell, he deserved to need someone. But Frank was off, pretending things were all right with his life as he embarked on the fairytale relationship with his 'best friend' Pete after escaping the clutches of the evil Way brother that had fallen astray.

He was removed from his thoughts as the cell doors mechanically swung open and the once-empty hallway was filled with boisterous activity. The inmates must have returned from their break, Frank realized, and he silently cursed at himself for his timing and that woman's time-consuming speech about justice. Breaks were a rare occasion in the State Prison, and occurred once every twenty-four hours, lasting an hour each.

Well, no matter, Frank convinced himself. He'd just focus on getting to know his cellmate, rather than dwell on the fact that his next moment of freedom was 24 hours away.

"…yeah, lunch," Frank heard, catching the end of someone's conversation. There was a brief pause before Frank heard, 'okay' and some sort of salutation. Frank tried to seem un-fazed by the fact that he was about to meet his cellmate, but as soon as he saw someone take foot inside the cell, he turned his attention to the wall, pretending to study the cracks on it.

For some reason, he was nervous to meet the guy. Defending himself was not a problem; he had Steve to thank for that. But there was a feeling at the bottom of his stomach. The woman that had just interviewed him seemed like a heartless, though funny, justice enforcer (despite the lack of need to stick to the rules of the prison). She had been so excited about Frank's new cellmate, which made it hard for Frank not to get nervous about their first encounter.

The metal bars of the door cast a shadow against Frank's back, and he saw the design portray itself in front of the wall he was facing. Alongside the bars was the shadow of his new inmate. There was silence for a brief moment, until the silence was broken and Frank was forced to acknowledge his new partner.

_ "This is the rest of your life, Frankie-boy. Get used to it…You're a sight to see and I know the boys like to touch, especially your new friend."_

Her words haunted Frank as he shifted in his seat and slowly let his eyes travel up the image of his cellmate. Frank could tell that he was also giving Frank his own sort of inspection, and Frank hoped whatever it was, he'd passed it. If getting on this guy's good side was what she deemed impossible, Frank was going to prove her wrong…hopefully.

Besides, the guy didn't look that bad. He was fit, no doubt about that. His arms were toned, and stomach flat. He wasn't a body builder, but he sure hadn't let himself go. It kind of reminded Frank of his last cellmate, and he shivered as he thought about Steve. Hopefully, this guy wasn't the type of contradictory homophobe that Steve was.

Frank hadn't actually reached the guy's face yet, but it was obvious that whatever mental inspection he'd been giving Frank was over and the guy stood back as the cell door shut.

"So you're the new guy?" Frank heard him ask, and he immediately leaned against the bunk's frame as his fringe hid his eyes. Frank gave a slight nod of his head when the guy turned around and faced him, and in return the older man gave him a questioning look.

"Why weren't you outside with the rest of them?" the man demanded, and Frank shrugged.

"I guess she really wanted to talk to me about something," he answered, now moving his inspection to include the guy's attractive face. With that note alone, it was obvious Frank was pleased with the physical attributes of his cellmate. But there was something else there that attracted Frank. He felt as though he'd seen him somewhere before, or met someone that resembled him. Regardless, the guy looked good.

It only meant that the guy's attitude must have been horrible, right? What else could there be?

"She?"

Frank slapped his head as he realized he never specified who 'she' was. Shaking his head at his foolish assumption, he explained himself. "I guess she's an officer or something? The woman in charge of the newcomers?" Frank sat up properly in his bunk (he felt safe with his assumed position since the dude hadn't kicked him out yet) and pointed in the direction of the woman's office.

"Sandy?" the man asked, following the lead of Frank's arm. He gave a chuckle as he shook his head. "That woman's a psycho."

"Aren't we all?" Frank asked, thinking of some of the key points she'd brought up. They were placed with society, but because they were a bit uncouth, here they were. If anyone were psycho, it'd be them and not her.

"Yeah," the man agreed sadly, before giving a bitter chuckle. "I guess we're more psycho than others. I mean, we're the ones locked up, are we not?"

A sad smile cracked on Frank's face, and he nodded silently in agreement. There was a brief silence as Frank felt the gaze of the stranger upon him, so he went for the kill and asked the question he'd been asked several times in his life since he first answered prison doors.

"So, what are you in for?"

"Me?" the guy asked, chuckling. Frank nodded. There was a brief silence and Frank pretended to pick at his nails so he could avoid the eye contact that the man was probably silently willing for. Though visually appealing, there was something about him that made Frank uneasy. "I raped a kid and then killed my brother," he finally answered, sighing. "I didn't plan to kill him, but I did."

Frank could sense the regret in the older man's voice, so he didn't want to push it. But the next thing the man said made Frank's heart skip a beat.

"Actually, you kinda look like the kid I raped," the man thoughtfully added. His questioning eyes reached and finally connected with Frank's own, causing Frank's heart to continue its irrational beating. He didn't know why he let that statement catch him off guard. Frank reminded loads of people of other people they'd killed or hurt, and Frank dubbed the connection on his smaller body size and large eyes. Eyes always got to someone, Frank learned, and his eyes seemed to give off the vibe of innocence to the people he met. It was only natural, then, for people to connect him with their victims, since most of them were innocently harmed.

However, there was something nostalgic about the man's gaze at him, something that made Frank feel homesick. He liked it, actually. But Frank mentally slapped himself once he realized he was getting a warm and fuzzy feeling for essentially reminding his cellmate of a kid he raped.

The man stepped closer toward Frank, and Frank's eyes remained chained to his partner's. So far, he could say this placement was far better than the one he'd had at Newark. At least his cellmate wasn't a 'faggot' hater. He _did _rape a little boy, after all. Then again, that logic didn't work because Steve had fucked grown boys and still felt the way he did. Was this what made Sandy—he now learned—so happy with his placement?

The closer the man got to Frank, the more familiar he'd become. There was something about the way the man was looking at him that triggered memories of his past, and he opened his mouth to ask another question. "This boy you raped…you killed him too?"

"I didn't kill him," the man said. If Frank wasn't mistaken, there was bitterness in his voice. Needless to say, Frank's suspicions were proven correct as he continued. "I let him go and some stupid prick got him while I ended up in here."

"Well, you _did _rape him," Frank said.

"That, I did," the man agreed. "But even then, it wasn't really rape. He wanted it as much as I did, if not more."

"How do you know he wanted it?"

The man laughed at Frank's question, but answered anyway. "I think insisting on having sex every chance he could was a good enough clue, don't you?"

"You didn't just give in like that, did you?" Frank asked. "I mean, if some dude just walked up to you and said they wanted you to fuck them, you'd hold out, right?"

The guy's chuckle rang throughout the cell as he clutched his sides. "I obviously gave in. That's part of the reason why I'm here, isn't it?" He shook his head at Frank like he was retarded. "I told you I raped him. But, to answer your first question, I didn't give in right away. I tried to make him see that we didn't need to have sex, but…I swear, if you'd seen him you'd want to fuck him too.

"Now, to answer your second question," he continued, smirking as he made his spot on the bunk next to Frank. "Are you hinting at something, my friend?"

Frank immediately blushed and shook his head. "Um, um no," he stammered, nervously laughing. "I…that came out wrong I guess."

"Hm," he replied, forcing Frank to look in his direction. "That's a shame, really. You remind me of him. That could make things a bit fun, don't you think?"

Frank gulped as he felt a hand make its way on his upper thigh and he gently brushed him away, disguising it as he shifted in his seat. It wasn't so much that he was scared of the man, but he seemed like a really honest, down to earth guy. Plus, he'd just make himself look easy, and for some reason that bothered him. So instead, he cleared his throat and decided to move the story onward.

"How old was he?" Frank asked, and the guy let his hands continue travelling along Frank's body as he struggled to come up with an age.

"Around seventeen years," he finally said, stopping at Frank's knee. "Give or take a year, I guess."

"So the kid was old enough to know what he was getting himself into," Frank pushed, feeling himself relax. He wasn't sure if the calm feeling came from the fact that the guy hadn't raped some 4 year old boy, or if it was because the man was currently rubbing his knee. Frank didn't question it, though.

The man gave another bitter laugh. "Looking back on it now, not even I knew what we were getting ourselves into. I thought we were in love, but…I guess not."

"Why?" Frank asked, before he could catch himself. He was just so engrossed in the story that he couldn't help sounding like a 12-year-old boy during story-time. The guy seemed genuine, like he didn't belong. What's more, he wasn't pretending like he belonged. He still seemed human, the very thing Frank was trying to get rid of. Of course, during these few moments with his new cellmate, he backtracked.

"Jeez, you're kind of slow," he commented, laughing. "What am I in here for again?"

"For rape…oh," Frank replied, finally getting it. The boy must have reported him to the officials. "That sucks. I'm sorry."

"My brother had seen that from the get-go and knew that fucking brat was trouble for me, but I didn't listen to him and instead killed him for trying to separate me from the person who I thought was mine," he continued, shaking his head. "You can see where my bitterness arises, huh?"

Frank cast his eyes down as he thought of the man's unfortunate luck, and he found himself holding on to the man's knee as well. That didn't seem to harm or help him, but Frank remained as he finished his story. "So in short, I've got a dead brother for defending a guy that left me in the end."

"That's…fucked up."

"I know." The man sighed, before patting Frank's knee and clearing his throat. "But that's life. It sucks, and then you die."

Frank nodded in agreement, but he kept his hand on the man's knee. He hadn't realized it was still there until he was asked what he came in for.

"Huh?" he asked in surprise, quickly removing his hand from the knee. "What?"

"What'd you do to end up being my cellmate?" he asked again.

"I killed a guy."

"Ha, well I figured that much out," the man laughed. "You don't get transferred to the D Wing of State for just killing any guy though."

"Well, I guess he was kind of popular," Frank contemplated aloud. "Oh, and I killed my last cellmate."

"Maybe that has something to do with it," he joked, but Frank could see him slowly easing away.

"No, wait," Frank pleaded, rising on his knees as he grabbed his shoulder. "I'm not going to kill you. At least, I don't think so."

"I'm sure that's what your last buddy thought," he chuckled, but Frank shook his head.

"No, I won't," he insisted. "Steve…he was a jerk. And I only killed him in self-defense."

"Self-defense?" he repeated. "That doesn't make sense. No one would be transferred for something as small as that."

"Mine was, uh…I guess it was pro-active self-defense," Frank explained, blushing. "As in, I killed him before he had a chance to kill me—which he totally would have!" Frank's blush deepened as he realized just how stupid he must have sounded.

"I'm serious," he insisted. "Steve was like some big homophobe. He swore he'd kill me, so I just killed him first."

"Smart enough," the older guy allotted, grinning. His grin turned into a nostalgic smile as he took in the sight of his cellmate once more. "You know, you really remind me of him."

"Who?"

"Frank."

"Yeah?" Frank answered, a bit confused. "I'm right here," he murmured (more to himself) as he waved his hand.

"The boy, you remind me of him," the guy explained, giving a small smile. But his smile disappeared within the next few moments as he gave a deep sigh, focusing his attention on Frank. A hand of his was resting on Frank's thigh, and he had resumed rubbing it.

"So…you a virgin?" he continued, and Frank blushed. He didn't know why he cared about telling his cellmate he wasn't. In most cases, and with what his partner seemed to be looking for, that was what people wanted to hear. Not necessarily, 'I've let everyone and everything with a dick fuck me,' but something along those lines of prison/jail-house promiscuity

"I'm about as much of a virgin as you are," Frank finally uttered, biting his lip.

"Then we should have no problem," the older man said, reaching for Frank's package. Frank gasped as his eyes widened, but the man kept his cool. "You see, my friend, none of us are virgins."

"R-really?" Frank stammered, shutting his eyes as he felt the man fondle him.

"No, we're not," his partner repeated, slowly rubbing Frank's cock. "Life's fucked us all." Frank forced his eyes open as he heard the bitterness in his partner's voice. He could see his partner staring at him, studying his features. Frank could also tell what he was thinking. Hell, his partner had told him what he was thinking.

"You…you can call me his name if you want," Frank murmured, eyes dimmed as he gave a small smile. He seemed like a nice guy.

"Thank you," the man said, grinning. It made Frank feel warm inside because for the first time since Frank had been here, someone gave him a genuine smile of appreciation. It was nice.

But the smile was short lived as the man shook his head in shame. "Jeez, how pathetic am I? I've been locked away for eight fucking years and I _still _think about Frank…"

Frank's heart was stuck in his throat as he heard him utter the last sentence aloud, and he leaned back against the wall with such force that his head hit the brick wall with a light thud. But the dull ache he now had was the last thing on his mind. The man, he'd said the kid he'd raped (but not really) was named Frank, and that it happened eight years ago. And his brother….his brother had been killed; he claimed to have killed him at least.

As the pieces of the puzzle fell together, Frank's eyes widened. What if there was a reason as to why the man reminded Frank of someone, and likewise to him? And it seemed to make sense as to why he would be placed with him, based on Sandy's words.

_ "You won't be so willing to agree once you see who I've paired you with. Typically this doesn't happen, but I feel it is the right place for you, given your history and what you've done to deserve a place here for life. Karma, Frank, is a bitch."_

Could it be that Sandy had arranged for Frank to be put in the same cell with the guy who had 'allegedly' raped him against his will? Well, if that was the actual story, Frank agreed with Sandy; life would have been a bitch. But, dear god, if this really was Gerard…

"You okay?" the guy asked, holding his arm. "You kinda knocked yourself out there."

"Y-yeah," he shakily notified him. "I-I'm fine." He gave his head a light rub before sitting up properly, his back against the wall for support in case he couldn't take it.

"You never told me your actual name," he said slowly, putting a hand back on Frank's knee. Preparing himself for the reunion, Frank looked up at him smiling sadly as he uttered his response he told him eight years ago.

"Don't worry about my name, Mr. Way," Frank said, shaking his head. At the mention of that, Frank's cellmate cocked his head to the side. He seemed to pay much attention by this point, and his hold against Frank's knee tightened greatly. How did he know his last name? Then again, maybe Sandy had mentioned it to him…

Picking the cues as good signs, Frank continued. "My parents don't even seem to know my name. Sometimes, it's just 'son, do this' or 'son, do that,' or 'son, do so-and-so. Get off your fat ass and do something with your life.'"

Gerard sat silently, watching Frank through an intense gaze as he finished. "It's Franklin Iero," he eventually admitted, locking is eyes with Gerard's own, where he could see a connection was made. "But, I like Frank better."

The sentence hit a note somewhere within him, and Frank could sense movement come to a still. Gerard seemed to debate with himself whether or not he should reply to Frank's statement, and when he finally did, Frank knew that he'd finally found him.

"I like Frankie," Gerard whispered, ultimately allowing himself to breathe as he reached in to hug Frank. "Frankie's the one I want to be with."

Years of torment, sadness, resentment, bitterness, regret, frustration, and remorse released as Frank cried, clinging on to Gerard's frame. Oh, how he'd missed Gerard's touch, his scent, his feel, his mold, his support… He couldn't control the sobs erupting from his throat as he thought about how he'd said goodbye, or didn't get to actually say goodbye, to him. He hiccupped as he thought about the lonely life Gerard had led in prison, forced to adapt to yet another lifestyle as he was thrown under the bus partly thanks to Frank. And after the last phase, Frank allowed himself to look past that and relish in the fact that Gerard was here, alive, holding him tightly against his chest.

"Oh my god, Gerard!" Frank cried, allowing the tears to fall as happiness overcame him. "Oh my god!"

"Shhh," Gerard murmured as Frank sobbed. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm here, Frankie."

"I missed you so much," Frank cried. "So much!"

That statement, no matter how much it made Gerard melt inside, was only half-assed; Gerard was sure. It was just something people said when they saw people they hadn't seen for a while, but never actually meant. He was sure Frank didn't mean it at least.

"Well, you couldn't have missed me _that _much," Gerard muttered, rolling his eyes despite the overwhelming joy building up in his chest from finally seeing Frank. "I mean, you left me in the dark for eight years."

Frank felt the weight of the world on his shoulders again as all those years came back to finally haunt him, and he struggled to say something that made any remote sense. It was a difficult task, since the answer and blatant truth on its own made no sense to him. How was he supposed to explain—how could he expect himself to explain—what the hell was going on?

"Gee, I'm so sorry!" Frank pleaded, looking at Gerard. But the Gerard Frank had left alone died those eight years ago. The Gerard he was crying to now had been hardened, and it would take more than tears to simply move him over.

"Forget about me, kind of like you've been doing," Gerard tagged at the end. "What brings you here?"

"Gerard, I'm sor—"

"No, I'm serious," Gerard said, interrupting Frank's apology. "What brings you here? And did you honestly kill your last cellmate, or is this some elegant surprise-visit sponsored by the great Irene Iero and Pete Wentz?" Gerard gave him a dry and bittersweet smirk. "I have missed you, though…"

"I really killed someone, Gee," Frank murmured, sniffling as Gerard's arms left him. "I belong here. You don't."

"Let's not start this again, shall we?" Gerard said, rubbing Frank's back. "Now, let's get back to you."

"Gerard—"

"Shh, Frank!" Gerard demanded, a flash of anger taking over for a brief second as he threatened to slap him. Frank recoiled in fear, rooted with shock from hearing Gerard yell at him and raise his hand. Gerard took a breath and calmed himself as he lowered his arm, watching as Frank studied the palm that nearly made contact with his cheek. Once everything was under control, Gerard slowly closed his eyes, smirked, and took a deep breath.

"Let's start this over, shall we?" he said, and Frank nodded, biting his tongue to keep from another plea. Gerard wasn't in the mood, and if Frank couldn't see how Gerard could think he was shitting him, he'd give it another go. But if he'd been in Gerard's shoes, he'd feel the same way.

"Now, I heard a rumor that you went to jail for some time."

"I was in jail," Frank said. "And then I came here."

"Now, by 'I came here' do you mean it as a continuation of your sentence, or a surprise visit thanks to your mom and new boyfriend?" Gerard asked.

"Continuation," Frank replied, hiccupping. It took him a while to realize that Gerard had referred to Pete as his boyfriend but as soon as it sunk in, Frank protested.

"And Pete wasn't my boyfriend."

"Oh really?" Gerard bitterly asked, his voice becoming wry. "Then tell me why the whole fucking world thinks otherwise."

"It was pretend!" Frank insisted. "Besides, just because everyone thinks so, doesn't make it right."

Something about that statement boiled Gerard to the core, and at that moment everything he hated about Frank resurfaced. All the anger and frustration he felt against the boy unleashed, and he angrily tackled Frank against the cement wall. Frank gave a cry of surprise, but Gerard demanded he 'shut up.'

"Correction, Frank," he spat, pointing at himself. "Just because everyone thinks so, does make it right. Fucking get it through your head.

"Look, I've missed you like hell," Gerard admitted. "I've missed you, unlike I've ever missed anyone. After high school was over, I missed some of my friends. But then you have family to go to. And when I was kicked out the house and had no family, I knew that I at least had Mikey. And maybe fate doesn't like me too well because Mikey died off…but I had you as my rock, Frankie. I had you, but then you left me.

"Before you, there was someone who could somewhat act as a substitute. Of course, there are some people you can't replace. With Mikey, I feel a part of him is always with me. But with you? It was like there was just a fucking hole where you should have been. And that was unbearable."

Tears made Frank water, and his lip quivered. "I know, Gerard. I know—"

"No, you _don't _know," Gerard said, seething. "You don't fucking know, nor will you ever know, Frankie. Because if you knew just how much that hurt, to have the love of your life suddenly just vanish without a trace…I mean, it's one thing if someone you love vanishes due to sources beyond their control: you can at least take comfort in the fact that if they were in control, they'd find their way back to you. But to have that person willingly just fucking leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere…?"

"Do you know how long I've hated myself for leaving you?" Frank finally replied, arching his brows as he decided it was time to fill the silence.

"Shut up, Frank."

"No, you shut up," Frank demanded, sniffling. "You're right; I shouldn't have left you like that. And once it hit me, I felt like utter and complete shit. But that's why I'm here."

"As a visitor?" Gerard snapped.

"No, as a fucking convict, you dipshit!" Frank said evenly. "You fucking idiot. I killed someone so I could be locked up like you. I knew it would never be the same as going through all the pain you went through, but I had to try—"

"Tell me, Frank; who the fuck's life is worth losing over your shit?" Gerard asked, his heart breaking. Part of him wanted to know that Frank still ached for him, and it was obvious that he did. Only, he had hoped Frank would use his brains instead of acting solely on his heart. Killing a random person to get himself into jail was a bit much.

"Pete Wentz," Frank murmured, and Gerard's blood ran cold. The expression on Gerard's face let Frank know the older man wasn't expecting it at all, and he continued to repeat his statement. "Yes, Way, I did it," Frank repeated. "I got him back for all the shit he did to us."

"Stop kidding, Frankie," Gerard whispered, and he sat up as Frank made room to sit up as well.

"I'm not," Frank insisted, his eyes rimmed red. "I killed him."

Gerard eased himself closer to Frank, hearing Frank repeat himself over and over. But for some reason, there was no way for him to believe that his baby-faced Frank could even muster up the strength to kill him. What for? Frank would always find a way not to harm someone, so why'd he stop looking for excuses for Pete?

"So…let's say you did kill him," Gerard slowly went on. "How'd you do it?"

Frank sighed as he simply stated, "It was a mixture of things, really, but I cut his dick off."

There was silence for a good ten seconds before Gerard gave him a weirded-out 'wtf' look. "You cut his dick off?" Frank nodded. Gerard chuckled. And soon, Gerard's chuckle turned into giggling. And once he started giggling, he was on the road to laughter, until finally—_finally_—he began wheezing for air.

"Shhh!" Frank urged him, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He knew it was wrong to have killed another human being, but to see the smile on Gerard's face made it all worth the labor. "But, yeah…I cut it," he whispered again.

Gerard continued laughing until it died down to a chuckle, and he faced Frank. "So you cut it off?" Frank nodded for the hundredth time as Gerard grew red again.

"How'd you not hear about it?" Frank asked, chewing nervously on his lower lip. "I thought it was huge news."

"I dunno," Gerard said when he regained control of his airway. "After so many years of no contact, I've just decided to hear what I want to hear. And I guess the time you cut off poor baby's weiner was a time when I couldn't fucking stand the thought of you."

Frank guessed he deserved that, and deserved to know that Gerard couldn't stand him sometimes, bad enough to pretend he didn't exist. Then again, that's what Frank essentially did for three years.

"Okay, so you cut it off and then…?"

"Like I said," Frank repeated, blushing. Gerard's voice brought him back to the present and threw him into the past again. "It was a mixture of things."

"What things, is what I want to know."

"Gerard, it's just a whole slew of—"

"Tell me, Frankie." It was very obvious that Frank didn't want to go into details about the affair, but Gerard held Frank by his ear.

Giving a sigh of defeat, Frank shook his head. "How…how much do you want to know?"

"Everything," Gerard demanded, letting go. "Tell me everything, Frankie." He dug his nose in the crook of Frank's neck and inhaled his scent before nibbling gently on his flesh. "Tell me."

"You're going to hate me," Frank whispered, and he could feel the tears threatening to show up as Gerard's breath hit his skin.

"I can't hate you anymore than I already have," Gerard whispered back into Frank's ear. "Tell away, baby."

Frank took a deep breath as he looked away from Gerard, but Gerard raised his chin and demanded Frank look him in the eye. It couldn't be done, however, and Frank closed his eyes the last second before he uttered the shameful truth.

"I let him fuck me," Frank whispered, and Gerard froze.

Frank felt the need to continue, though. He couldn't just end it there. And the look on Gerard's face was indescribable, but he covered it up the next chance he could. "It was the only way I could get him to trust me," he quickly explained, sniffling. "H-He fucked me, he thought I loved him, and he agreed to make love to me next. That's when I killed him." There was a deafening silence as Frank's short and feverish breaths filled the air, and he nervously looked back into Gerard's eyes.

"All I heard," Gerard eventually murmured, "was that you let Pete fuck you."

"I…I-I did."

"Was any of that worth it?" Gerard asked, shaking his head. "Look at us, Frank; we're both in prison."

"So?" Frank asked, shifting his position. "If anything's wrong with this picture, it's that _you're_ in prison. I actually belong here. I killed someone to get in here. Hell, I killed more than just one person to get in here. All you did was tell the inconvenient truth. You don't belong."

"Well now you're in here so don't tell me I don't belong," Gerard retorted. True, he might have not been the most welcoming to Frank these last few moments, but he still loved the kid. "I've always dreamt of being with you again, but I never thought we'd share a prison cell, Frankie. Prison's not the place for you."

"And it is for you?"

"I've gotten used to it after eight years," Gerard replied. Frank shook his head.

"I belong where you are," he said slowly. "And if you're locked up, I want to be locked up."

"Why would you want to be cooped up all day, being told when to eat, sleep—"

"Newsflash, Gerard," Frank sadly chuckled. "My life's _always _been like that. So if you're worried that I won't be able to fit right in, you're wrong. I agree that in the beginning prison was difficult, but now that I know you're still here, it's okay now. I belong in a place like this. I don't mind it. And it's a horrible thing to say, but I'd kill again just to ensure my spot with you here."

In a twisted way, it was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to Gerard, and he bit back a smile. He couldn't outright condone Frank's statement, but it hit a spot. "Frankie—"

"Shh," Franked urged him, smirking. For the first time, Frank showed some signs of confidence as he neared Gerard and rubbed his shoulder. "All this time, if you didn't know, you were the final outcome I wanted. I never actually thought I'd get you again, but this was what I was aiming for. And I'm fucking glad I got it." Frank smiled at Gerard, relieved to see Gerard understood or forgave him—that had to have been why he was looking at him like that, right?

As Frank prepared himself to hear nurturing words from Gerard (maybe along the lines of 'I love you baby,' or 'Everything's all right'), Gerard took a deep breath as he asked what had tormented his mind for years on end.

"So you and Pete was just a part of the plan, or did you really love him?"

Frank gave Gerard a bewildered look, but Gerard stood his ground. Honestly, he could see Frank answering both ways. Because of how convincingly happy Frank seemed with Pete on air, Gerard was very sure Frank would reply with an obvious "of course I really loved him!" Then again, if Frank loved Pete so much, why'd he cut off his dick and kill him? Or, maybe the situation was more complicated than Gerard could have ever guessed and Frank did love Pete to some extent, only he loved Gerard more?

In that second situation, Gerard wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was nice to know that he meant more than Pete, but it bothered him immensely that Pete was even in the running. Call him greedy, but he wanted to keep Frank all to himself.

"A-are you seriously asking me this question?" Frank stuttered.

"You two seemed like the perfect couple on television."

"That's all it ever was: on television. Not in real life," Frank said, shaking his head. "The two of us would have never worked out. Not since I met you, Gee. His chance was lost a long time ago."

"Did he know that?" Gerard asked quietly, and Frank grew silent. "Did he know you two were over, or did he still think he had a chance?"

"Well, he must have thought he had a chance," Frank admitted. "Or else he wouldn't have let me get that close to him."

"He wouldn't have fucked you, you mean," Gerard said, and Frank nodded. There was a moment of silence as Gerard thought things through, and the questions began.

"So how's Tina?"

"Got rid of her years ago," Frank replied. "Pete got a new girl. I guess the two of them weren't clicking so he got rid of Tina."

"Killed her?"

"Pimped her," Frank replied. "Sold her to another guy to take care of."

"Right, right! His business, I forgot."

"Speaking of which, he handed down to Mario after Tina was gone," Frank told Gerard, which surprised him.

"Why'd Pete just hand everything over that meant so much to him?" he asked. "That business…the business was essentially why he went berserk and made our lives hell. He wanted you to be his star employee, didn't he?"

Frank gave a nervous gulp, since he could already tell that Gerard was uneasy and unconvinced about his feelings for Pete, but he said what had to be said anyway. "He said he wanted to give us 'another chance,'" Frank murmured, looking away. "He said that people don't usually get second chances, and now that he had one he wanted to use it well."

"So he got rid of Tina, the other whores, his little business affair, etc. so he would spend more time with you?" Gerard asked. The jealousy was stitched in his voice and etched on his face. Frank was forced to silently confirm Gerard's thoughts and grimaced as he heard Gerard bitterly agree, "I would've done the same thing."

"Gerard—"

"So how'd you finally earn enough trust to…do what you did?" Gerard asked instead. Frank could see that Gerard was still unsatisfied with his answers, but he went ahead and answered him.

"I had to fool the public into thinking that everything was all right," Frank started. "I had to make them think that whatever shit they were saying about you was true, so that when I finally cracked, I could use it for my case."

"How?"

"Well, I was thinking about killing Pete in the long run," he admitted. "And if I was always seen brooding around Pete in the public, and constantly talking about how much I missed you and whatnot instead of showing that I moved on, I would be under constant surveillance and the thought of killing Pete would remain _just _as a thought. In fact, I was under constant surveillance the first year and a half: the first year since that was the time I was trying to fight on your behalf, and the half-year was because I was brooding over the loss."

"So if they saw you were adjusting nicely to your new home, they'd stop keeping close tabs on you."

"Exactly," Frank said, giving a small smile. Gerard didn't return the act. "So things had to stay on the down low, you know? But you have to believe me that as soon as the cameras were gone, the pretending stopped."

"Sure."

"I'm serious," Frank insisted. "I learned so much confidence from you, Gerard. I told Pete how I really felt and warned him not to fuck around with me and he actually didn't."

"What?" he asked in surprise. "You mean to tell me that Pete didn't touch you once?"

"Not for three years," Frank said proudly.

"You're shitting me."

"My hand and I got to know each other pretty well," Frank admitted, "but besides that it was okay."

"My fuck, Frankie."

"I know!" he exclaimed, smiling.

"Three years is a bit long for pretend, don't you think?" Gerard asked, but Frank remained optimistic that Gerard would somehow make sense of what he did.

"Better safe than sorry," he replied. Gerard still remained deep in thought.

"Pete must have been really serious," he murmured, looking past Frank. Frank wasn't sure what Gerard was looking at exactly, but Gerard seemed pretty focused. "He honestly thought he had a chance with you if he tried as hard as you're saying he did. Because I know Pete, and Pete doesn't try. He never tries. He just _does_. You're different. He used to be able to do you—no offense."

"None taken."

"But to gain each other's trust again," Gerard said, still deep in thought. "To do that, he had to try and work hard at it. Pete never tries because he doesn't see the importance of anything or anyone. Or, I should say he _didn't_. And the one time he actually does give a shit…"

"That doesn't matter," Frank said, pushing the thoughts aside as his smile faded. "That was the point of it."

"Isn't that a little harsh?" Gerard asked, and Frank shook his head.

"Remember what the fuckhead did to you," he said, sounding a bit hardened himself. "He fucked you for money, killed your brother, separated us, and ruined your name. He'd do it all again in a split second if he could. Pete could be a calculating motherfucker when he wanted to be, and so can I. And I was. I made sure he saw that."

"So you spent three years playing the perfect couple for audiences," Gerard said, hinting at the college intermission. "Or did you forget about me?"

"I couldn't ever forget about you if I tried," Frank immediately replied, "and that's the truth. It's just…I don't know how to explain it. Maybe my mind knew what was about to happen and so I went into this state of I guess deep thought. I just spent my time thinking, instead of doing anything. I started looking up cases again while in college, though. I tried to take courses geared towards law. But the more courses and cases I saw, the more I realized Pete had really screwed us over. And I had this fire inside of me, Gerard. It just took over me completely. I don't think it's gone yet, but my god…I've never felt so angry in my life.

"So while I admit that college was completely random at the time, it was necessary for me in order to awaken that fucking fire in me to allow me to do what I did to him."

Gerard wasn't completely convinced with what he'd heard from Frank, but he decided to push things forward. He meant it when he said he wanted to know everything. "So what'd you do when you came back from college?"

"I texted him and told him basically that I was coming home for the break and that I wanted to see him. I told him that I missed him, stuff like that," Frank quickly included.

"And?"

"And when I saw him, it was just the two of us, I guess," he continued. "The two of us…and I guess I offered myself up to him, I guess."

Gerard could tell Frank was now uncomfortable speaking about the ordeal, but he urged for Frank to go on. "And then?"

"And then I let him fuck me, he told me he loved me, and then I killed him."

"Wait, what?" Gerard asked, eyes wide. "He actually told you he loved you?" Frank nodded, and gave Gerard a confused look.

"Why?"

"This is Pete we're talking about, right?" Gerard asked, and Frank nodded. "And you say he told you he loved you?" Frank nodded again.

"Yeah, he said he was going to make love to me and then I killed him."

"You killed him?"

"Yes sir, I did," Frank replied. "I injected him with—"

"Don't," Gerard pleaded, shutting his eyes.

"I thought you wanted to know?" Frank questioned.

"And I do want to know," Gerard finished. "I do. But, not today?" Frank's questioning look resonated with Gerard and he took a deep breath as he tried to find the words to use to explain to his boyfriend (that's what Frank was, right?) his current emotional state.

"I do want to know what you did, but at the same time I'm just happy that you're here. All this time, I've thought about you. Rest assured, I've had many emotions running through my head ever since you left me. But now you're here. I don't know how to feel. I know you're not the same person you were eight years ago, and neither am I. It just kind of freaks me out to hear you talk like that. I don't know this new Frank you've become, but I know whatever you did to get here was something Frankie wouldn't do. I thought I was brave enough to hear what crazy shit you did to Pete, but I think just knowing you've killed Pete is all I can handle. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry Gee," Frank said, rubbing his eyes before they could water. Gerard was right; he'd turned crazy that night. The old him would have never done that. Had Gerard been there, he would have been more in control. But that was just the thing: Gerard wasn't there, and Pete was threatening to take his place one way or another.

"But you said it yourself, Gee," Frank said, hiccupping. "Three years was too much time of 'pretend.' I couldn't pretend anymore. I-I couldn't."

Frank's voice cracked and Gerard gave a small smile. Who the fuck was he kidding? He might have had some ill feelings toward Frank in the past, but his baby was here. No matter how mad he was at Frank for his choice to leave him in prison or disappointed in Frank's actions that wound him here, at the end of the day he missed his other half. He missed yelling at him when he was mad, he missed ignoring him when he was consumed in his own thoughts, he missed kissing him when he was horny, he missed hugging him when he was down, he missed defending him when he was being attacked, and he missed protecting him from the world's evil clutches. Because the world had its chance with him. Frankie was his: always would be.

"It's okay, Frankie," he murmured again as he held Frank close. "Don't feel like shit. I forgive you, okay?"

"D-do you still h-hate me for what I d-did?" Frank questioned against Gerard, staining his shoulder with his tears.

"Of course I hate you for what you did," Gerard said, scoffing as he referred to Frank's abandonment. "But I fucking love you, Frankie. And, as much as I hate to come to terms with what you may have done to get here, in this cell with me…I love you even more than before, if that's even possible."

Frank clung on to Gerard, rested his head as Gerard rocked them back and forth. "We'll deal with all the technical stuff when you're ready, okay?" Gerard said, and Frank gave a slight 'uh-hm' in response. He was almost positive Gerard didn't hear, since the sound was drowned out with the sound of Frank's sobs of relief at the words he hoped to hear. It made everything 100 percent worth it again.

And that's how the two remained, embraced in each other's arms like the old times, until the other fell asleep. Being that it was like the old times, it was no surprise that Frank was the one that drifted into dreamland first. But Gerard didn't mind. He liked the feel of having a young soul to watch over again. And while the offer presented itself numerous times throughout his jailhouse career, he wasn't willing to play that role for anyone but Frank. And what did you know? Someone had answered his prayers, because the little pipsqueak was here.

The slight rise and fall of Frank's tummy while in Gerard's arms soon got Gerard to rub Frank's shoulder, and soon Gerard relaxed more into Frank's mold. No matter how welcoming his arms had been for Frank, he'd known he'd been a bit timid. He was scared that some of what Frank was saying was a lie, and that in the next second Frank would be pulled away from him; then it would be followed by cameras flashing, as well as an evilly grinning Irene and Pete in the background as they took Frank away.

But it was now the dead of night. Gerard knew Pete well enough to know that had he actually been alive and plotted this get-together, it would have ended eons ago; probably before he and Frank realized who the other was.

That was one thing that puzzled Gerard: they hadn't been able to recognize each other off the bat. Gerard imagined that they'd be able to see each other from a mile away, but the two of them had changed both physically and mentally. They hadn't changed that much, but the change was drastic enough (and the circumstances that they'd meet were drastic enough) for them not to expect the other one. So they didn't.

What would have happened if Frank ended up in the very same facility as his own, but in another cell? The two of them would have never spoken to each other.

_ Don't think about that_, he scolded himself. Because Frank was here, whether he'd recognize him from a distance or not. And they were here for life, as long as they didn't kill any more people. He and his mate were reunited, and there was no better feeling in the world than that. Maybe prison wasn't the ideal place for many couples, but Gerard knew it was for them.

Frank was right. Prison was where he belonged. He'd been coached for it his whole life. The main thing about prison was that a person lost his freedom within these walls.

But since when has Frank ever experienced true freedom? Not while he was living with his parents. Not while he was with his peers at school. Not while he was with Pete. Not while he was with Gerard, either. Gerard would vouch to say Frank was the happiest with him, but not 'free.' Had he been discussing this with Frank, he knew Frank would argue and say that he felt free to be himself around Gerard, but that wasn't the type of 'free' Gerard was talking about, the type of 'free' prison stripped you of.

So, prison was just the ultimate place for Frank. And if it was the ultimate place for Frank, then it was where Gerard needed to be. Granted Frank should have entered the system before him in this case, it was okay that the series of events happened backwards. They were finally together again, and that was what mattered to Gerard.

And though Mikey was against it initially, Gerard knew with his heart that Mikey wouldn't have it any other way. Why? Because this little surprise made Gerard happy; Frank in his arms again made Gerard melt, something he hadn't done in over eight years; the love the two had for each other was strong enough to hold out through shit being thrown their way, granted that sacrifices were made. They were seriously in love with each other.

There was nothing more Mikey could ever want for his older brother.

With that thought, it became easier for Gerard to nestle into the hold Frank had for him. Gerard's eyes were now droopy; the whole time they'd been open, glaring at passerby's who dared show an inkling of animalistic interest Frank's pretty face. Frank was his once more, and he'd be damned if he'd be taken from him again.

_ "He said that people don't usually get second chances, and now that he had one he wanted to use it well."_

Gerard smirking, he kissed Frank's forehead. That was well said by Mr. Wentz, if Gerard may so himself. Well-fucking-said.


End file.
